Prodigal
by isis-sg1
Summary: Shawn's secret is out and has no option but to leave town. It's a year later and the people that let him leave need his help, will Shawn come back?
1. Chapter 1

Shawn struggled as he tried to push his way through the crowd of reporters

Shawn struggled as he tried to push his way through the crowd of reporters. The feeling of being some famous film star surrounded by people vying for his attention quickly disappeared by an elbow in his side and the harsh flash of cameras going off in his face, blinding him. The sea of people felt endless, but he eventually managed to get to the other side, ignoring the shouting and the questions as he pulled on his helmet, started the engine and sped out of there way past the speed limit.

Even miles away from his apartment, he still felt like he was struggling against something, still finding it hard to breathe and he couldn't help but swear until he ran out of words to say.

When he skidded into the parking lot outside the Psych office, he was surprised and relieved to find the second pack of reporters were missing from the little campsite they had set up outside the office. He swung his leg over the bike, pulled his helmet off and ruffled up his helmet hair before striding over to the office.

He found himself surprised again when he found a familiar face standing in the middle of the office, her face serious.

"Jules," he greeted with a smile. "Did you get rid of the savages outside? I thought they'd never leave, they're outside my apartment too you know, I seriously don't know where they all came from-"

"-Shawn," she interrupted sternly, her normally relaxed and pleasant demeanour gone from her face.

"It's good to see you," Shawn continued, "I haven't seen you at all since this whole thing started." He made a step towards her and she quickly took a step back. Her eyes avoided his. "Jules what is it?"

"I've come to tell you that the Santa Barbara Police will no longer be asking for your help on cases. It's over," she told him

"I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry?" She asked, her eyes finally meeting his. "You're sorry?" She repeated. "You've been lying to everyone for two years now, you've been lying to _me._"

Shawn took another step towards her. "I did it to help people."

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter now does it? Everyone knows you're a fraud. Everyone knows you've been lying to the police all this time and there's no going back from this." She took a step towards Shawn. "Goodbye Shawn," she said, she made a move to walk past him when he grasped her arm gently.

"Juliet, please."

"I persuaded Lassiter not to start an investigation into you, that's the last favour I ever do you," she said before pulling her arm away from him and disappearing out of the door.

Shawn didn't bother going after her, knowing how little she would appreciate it. He dropped down into his chair wearily and reached out blindly for his rubber frog. He wouldn't liken it to a security blanket, but that frog had always been there and always helped him think more clearly if he was squeezing it until the eyes popped out. The frog was missing. Shawn turned his eyes towards his desk, his eyes landing on the file for their latest case, the case that had caused all this.

He wished he had someone to blame, he wished he could shout at someone for everything that had happened but no, it had been him that had been careless. One stupid mistake, one phone call to Gus about the case while a private detective listened in, recording the whole damn thing. A private detective hired by _his_ client to check up on him.

He'd woken up the next day to find his face plastered over every local newspaper, an army of reporters outside his apartment and Gus shouting down the phone.

He pushed the file until it fell off the other side of the desk, the papers falling out and scattering over the floor. "Stupid," he muttered, not really knowing whether he was talking about the case that had caused all this mess or himself.

His eyes suddenly fell on a post-it note stuck to his desk. He reached over and peeled it away from the wood.

_We need to talk__._

There was no name underneath, but Shawn recognised the handwriting. He scrunched the note up into a ball, throwing it and watching as it fell easily into the waste paper basket. He smiled at the mini-triumph, silently wishing Gus was there so he could show off but his smile faded quickly as he glanced over at the empty chair opposite him.

Finally he lifted himself up to his feet and made his way to the door. He could already see the reporters reforming and he sighed. He grabbed his helmet from the nearby table and walked briskly towards his bike, hoping he wasn't noticed.

"Mr Spencer! Mr Spencer!" He heard calling to him as he climbed back on his bike. He pretended he couldn't hear as he started the bike and pulled out of the parking lot.

It took him fifteen minutes to reach his destination, happy that he'd managed to elongate the normally five minute journey to put off the inevitable waiting for him inside the house. He took in a deep breath before walking around the house and entering through the garden. He found his father reading a paper on the porch.

"Got your note," Shawn said and Henry looked up from the newspaper "Forgotten what a phone is?"

Henry smirked, he folded the paper up and waved it at Shawn. "Nice photo."

"I really don't think they caught my best side," Shawn replied flippantly.

Henry rose from his seat with a wince, ignoring the twinge in his back as he straightened up. He turned his back to Shawn and stepped into the house. "You know what happened this morning?" Henry asked, knowing his son had followed him inside. "I was woken this morning by a phone call. It was a reporter from the Santa Barbara Herald wanting to know if I wanted to make a comment on the news that my son had been outed as a fake psychic."

"Aww, did it cut into your eight and half hours?" Shawn asked.

Henry spun around. "You should have told me," he told Shawn. "I shouldn't have to find something like that from a reporter."

"I've been a little busy Dad, had a few other things on my mind."

"Wow, well don't I feel important," Henry replied sarcastically, he turned back around and headed into the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge and pulled out a soda. The can hissed as he opened it and he took a large gulp.

Shawn rolled his eyes following his dad into the kitchen. "Are you going to make a big deal out of this?"

Henry looked at his son, placing the can down on the nearest surface "Question is," he began, tilting his head to one side. "Why aren't you making a bigger deal out of this?" Shawn looked down at the ground, his fingers fiddling with the corner of the chipped work surface. "What has the PD said?" He asked.

Shawn shrugged. "They want nothing to do with me," he answered.

"And Gus?"

"He's getting some hassle at work," Shawn looked up at Henry. "He's not happy with me…and that's putting it lightly."

"Shawn, are you taking this seriously? I mean _really _seriously?"

"You mean this isn't just some huge practical joke?" Shawn retorted.

"You have the press on your tail, the police don't wanna know you, Gus is pissed at you and I have nothing to offer except a big fat I told you so."

"Dad-"

"Do you not realise that you have nothing now? Even without cases from the police, you really think you're gonna get private cases now?"

"Thanks for not sugar coating it, Dad," Shawn snapped. "I get it, I do."

"Yeah? Well, what are you going to do about it?"

Shawn sighed "I haven't really thought that far ahead."

"No," Henry agreed with a nod. "Thinking ahead was never your strong suit."

"Okay," Shawn walked out of the kitchen. "I haven't had the best day, and this isn't helping."

"What are you going to do, Shawn?" Henry asked, following Shawn.

"I don't know!"

"Well start thinking!" Henry sped up and headed Shawn off before he could escape out the door. He blocked the exit.

"Dad," Shawn said wearily. "Let me go."

"Look," Henry began. "I can't believe I'm suggesting this, considering how much I've hated it when you've done it in the past but-"

"-What?"

Henry sighed, rubbing a hand over his balding head. "Maybe you should take off for a while, get out of town until the heat dies down."

Shawn sucked in a deep breath. "You want me to go?"

"Not forever, just for now," Henry tried to explain.

Shawn nodded, unable to look his dad in the eye. "I understand."

Henry took a step away from the door. "I told you this would happen," he reminded him quietly. "I told you it wouldn't last forever."

"I never thought it would," Shawn lied before brushing past his father and jogging down the steps.

He briefly considered turning up at Gus', but realised his presence probably wouldn't be appreciated and finding the nearest bar sounded appetizing and would stay that way until he was recognized and there were questions he just wasn't ready to answer. He settled for his apartment, even thought he knew what was waiting for him outside.

For a second time that day, he pushed through the crowd and fell out the other side, pushing through the building's entrance and ran up the two flights of stairs to his apartment. He was tired but at least he was alone and it was quiet. He dropped his keys and his helmet on the couch.

The newspaper sitting on the kitchen table was quickly thrown in the trash and Shawn felt better knowing the reminder of what was happening outside his apartment was out of sight. _He wants me to go _Shawn thought as he paced up and down the room. _They want nothing to do with me….Jules, Gus, Dad_. It took him less than a minute to realize what he had to do.

It was dark outside when he left, the reporters off filing stories or whatever they did when they weren't stalking people.

He'd packed the important stuff, not that he had a lot of belongings. Most of the crap in his place was from his many eBay shopping sprees and he knew Gus would enjoy sticking them all back on the market and making a little money.

He climbed onto his bike before pulling out his cell phone. He pressed speed dial, knowing he would get the answering machine. The tone beeped and he began to speak.

"Hi Dad…I just wanted to say…..you were right…..Goodbye Dad," he flipped the phone shut and tucked it away. He turned on the engine and drove away,


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn's eyes snapped open. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness as he rolled over onto his back. He let out a groan as he realised he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. His air conditioning had stopped working yet again and his room was like a sauna. He flung back the sweat-soaked covers and rolled out of bed. He padded over to the window and quickly undid the latch, pushing the window as far open as it would go and sighed as the air cooled his damp skin.

He rested his elbows on the windowsill and stared out at the brightly coloured lights, just visible from his window, the great beam of light coming from the Luxor hotel pointing him in the direction of the Strip.

He found himself thinking back to when he first arrived in Las Vegas, realising it was over a year ago that he had arrived in the city, with no plans to stay longer than a month.

_Shawn stirred the mug of coffee sitting in front of him distractedly. He barely noticed the activity going on in the diner around him. He hadn't planned on ending up in Las Vegas, as usual there had been no plan, no destination. He just drove until he was tired. _

_It wasn't his first time in Vegas, he'd persuaded Gus to go four years ago. Shawn won three thousand bucks on poker and Gus had an embarrassing incident with a hooker, an incident Gus had made him swear he would never mention again. _

_He finally took a sip of the cooling liquid and grimaced at the strength. Just this one cup was going to keep him up all night, no matter how tired he was from driving. _

_He glanced out the window, squinting to protect his eyes from the glaring desert sun He couldn't see the mammoth casinos, they were in the other direction, but there was something that did catch his attention. He tilted his head to one side and studied the building across the road, wondering why he hadn't noticed it earlier. He pulled out enough money to cover the coffee and dropped it onto the table before grabbing his helmet from the other vinyl seat and jogging out of the diner. _

_He looked both ways across the busy street and crossed during a break in the traffic. He made his way to the building and looked up at the two story red brick building. A huge wooden sign hung over the door way, rusted metal words spelling "CHOKE" and underneath in chipped black paint "Bike Shop". _

_He pushed through the large double doors and stepped into a dark workshop. Bikes in various states of repair sat around and a selection of parts and tools sat on work surfaces and shelves. A stereo was blasting Metallica on the highest volume. _

"_Hello?" He called. A second later a figure appeared from a second room, a staff room or an office Shawn guessed. The unshaven man appeared in a pair of ripped jeans and an oil stained wife beater. _

"_Yeah?" The man replied, walking up to Shawn. _

"_Name's Shawn."_

_The man studied Shawn, his eyes travelling from his shoes up to his head ."Harry," the man replied. _

"_I'm new in town."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow, "That so?"_

"_I was looking for a job."_

_Harry scratched his balding head. "Well, I ain't really in need of a new guy."_

"_I can work hard," Shawn said quickly, "and I know my way around a bike."_

_Harry nodded to the helmet gripped in Shawn's hand. "Whatta ya ride?"_

"_Norton 750 Commando,__" Shawn answered quickly. "She's outside."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow, he brushed past Shawn silently and stepped out into the street. "That her over there?" He asked. _

_Shawn joined Harry in the doorway, looking over at the black bike parked by the diner. Shawn grinned, "That's her."_

_Harry nodded. He turned back into the workshop. "I'll give you a try kid, show me what you've got," he said, nodding towards a silver BMW in one corner. "Get that working before the end of the day and you've got yourself a job." _

_Shawn smiled ,"Great." Harry had already begun making his way back to the back room. "Hey Harry?"_

_Harry turned, "Yeah Kid?"_

"_I need a place to stay, you know anywhere?"_

_Harry chuckled, "I might know a place, if you're still here this evening." _

It hadn't taken Shawn long to befriend Harry and his other workers. Jonny, whose arms were completely covered in tattoos and had more piercings than Shawn wanted to know about, looked the scariest of the group, but really he was a harmless puppy. Shawn and Jonny had gone out partying more than once and having Jonny nearby scared off the crazies. He was also the only one who gave Shawn and run for his money when it came to poker.

Kai was a young student that helped out on weekends, his leather jacket wearing exterior hid a geeky interior and in between looking after the shop's single computer and studying, he was teaching the group about motorcycles and motorcyclingfrom 1885 to the Future, much to the dismay of Harry.

The last member of the group was Anna, whose glare could knock you down from fifty feet away. To anyone trying to get into her pants, she was tough and cold. To those who knew her better, and Shawn was glad he was in that category, she was fun and Shawn loved her devious mind. Only Anna could come up with the best practical jokes to play on Jonny and Kai.

Shawn finally pulled away from the window. He slowly made his way into the small kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and swallowed half of it quickly. His eyes caught sight of the piece of paper he had left on the counter the day before. He pulled the glass away from his lips and placed it down by the sink.

He exhaled loudly as he stepped up to the counter and picked up the single sheet of paper, a print out from some news site online.

"Fourth Santa Barbara Killer Victim – Police still baffled" sat at the top of the page in big bold letters, the rest of the article below. A small thumbnail of a crime scene sat at the top right corner and Shawn just about make out two familiar faces _Lassie and Jules. _His mind reminded him.

No one in Las Vegas knew about his past-life as a psychic detective and he liked it that way. He liked not having to explain himself, he liked that they didn't care if he didn't want to talk about it.

He wondered briefly how long it would have taken him to solve the case and catch the murderer. The thought disappeared quickly as he scrunched the paper into a ball and threw it in the direction of the trash. He re-filled the glass before heading towards the couch. He switched the TV on and flicked it to a news channel. He watched it until the sun rose up, resisting the urge to phone in tips to the Las Vegas PD


	3. Chapter 3

Juliet O'hara rubbed her tired eyes until they were red

Juliet O'Hara rubbed her tired eyes until they were red. She closed them for a second, ignoring the sting and the heaviness, trying to pull her into unconsciousness. Her hand went to her neck and she massaged the knots in her neck and shoulder that had formed over the day.

She couldn't remember the last time she was this tired. And she didn't know whether that was because her mind had given up on her an hour ago from lack of sleep or it just had been a long time since she last felt this sleep-deprived.

She opened her eyes slowly and they fell on the empty mug on her desk, coffee stains on the bottom from repeated trips to the coffee machine. She glanced over to the coffee machine and groaned at the site of the empty container.

Her eyes moved away from the coffee machine and landed on the clock and she groaned again as she realised it was nearly 1am.

Suddenly Lassiter appeared from around the corner, barking orders loud enough to make Juliet jump in her seat. She sat up straight. "I'm awake," she said

Lassiter turned to her. "What?"

Her eyes widened. "Nothing," she answered, quickly realising where all the coffee had disappeared to. The man standing in front of her was more hyped up on caffeine than Shawn used to be caffeine-free. _Shawn_ she thought before pushing that name and face out of her mind, there was more important things to be thinking about, like the four dead bodies.

The first dead body, an old man and his dog in the forest, hadn't raised too many questions. There wasn't any forensic evidence but it had rained the night before and any evidence would have been washed away. The bracelet around the man's wrist with a silver A raised no eyebrows seeing as the man's name was Freddie Albright.

It was when they found the young of a young girl, naked and lying in the sand at the beach, a silver bracelet with the letter B around her wrist, that they started to get suspicious. Two people with nearly identical bracelets die within two weeks of each other?

Another week later a man was found in a rowing boat, propped up in a suit and top hat. The letter C on his bracelet. _C _Jules sounded out the letter in her head. By the third body the press had began asking questions. Was this a serial killer? Did they know where he was going to strike next? How much danger was the public in? No-one had answers for them.

They began working day and night after the third body was found, knowing that any day now there would be a fourth victim. Both Juliet and Lassiter had worked themselves ragged but to no avail. Seven days later, with still no leads to go on, they found the fourth body. A ballet dancer, laid out on stage and a silver D on her wrist.

_Freddie Albright, Penny Baker, Richard Christov and Mia Derrings, A,B,C,D_

It had been driving them all crazy. It seemed the only thing the four victims had in common were the first four letters of the alphabet and the cause of death. A single puncture wound on the victim's arms.

The lab had tested their blood and found tetrodotoxin in each of their systems. In other words, pufferfish toxin. Juliet had seen the list of symptoms and what the toxin did to the body and it made her sick to think of what those people had gone through in the last minutes of their life. She knew it took a little over one-half milligram to kill and the killer had used four times as much on each of the victims. Juliet couldn't believe how cruel it was.

"What have you got?" Lassiter asked, pulling Juliet out of her thoughts. Juliet looked up at her partner as he loomed over her desk.

She sighed, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He repeated.

"Nothing since you asked me fifteen minutes ago," She corrected herself.

"O'Hara!"

"I'm sorry Carlton," Juliet lifted herself up to her aching feet. "But I've been staring at all these reports all evening. I've been staring at those photos." He nodded to the board with all the crime scene photos tacked up on it. "My head is hurting, my eyes are swimming and I can't even walk straight right now let alone think straight."

"We're running out of time. This sicko will have the next victim soon."

"I don't know what to do," Juliet said, the frustration obvious. "There was no evidence at any of the crime scenes and we have nothing connecting the victims. Albright lived alone with his dog the other side of the city, Baker was new to town, barely knew anyone, Christov lived on a houseboat and Derrings spent all her free time rehearsing at the theatre. None of these people have ever met, they don't live near each other, they don't move in the same circles, they don't shop at the same places, they have different backgrounds, different ages, height, weight," Juliet stopped to take in a deep breath. "We have nothing, no leads, nothing."

"Well what do you want me to do O'Hara? Give up, just let him keep killing?"

Juliet frowned. "You think that's what I'm saying?"

"Who knows? You're obviously not working hard enough."

"I resent that!" Juliet snapped. "You think I'd be here at one in the morning if I didn't care? You think I would spend hours looking over the reports, chasing leads that lead to no where, talking to grieving families and friends and reporters who keep badgering me for information? I've spent about five hours at my apartment in total this week and that was to sleep. I don't know what you want from me Carlton."

"I want you to do your damn job!" He shouted.

Juliet slammed her hands down on her desk, knocking some papers onto the floor. "How about you go do yours instead of shouting at me!" She shouted back.

"Hey!" A third voice, louder them both of them, interrupted. Juliet and Lassiter stopped and turned towards the voice. "Enough!" Chief Vick told them. "Look, you're both tired, I want you to go home and get at least seven hours sleep both of you. You're no use to any of us sleep deprived," she ordered.

"But-" Lassiter began to protest.

"No buts," Karen quickly cut him off. "Go. Now….before I have both of you escorted out the building." She took a step towards them. "We _are _going to catch this guy," she reminded them before turning and heading back into her office.

Juliet silently turned and picked up her bag, placing her gun inside. He pulled her jacket from the back of her chair and pulled it on, buttoning it up. Finally she turned back to her partner. "I'm sorry for shouting," she said.

He looked at her ."Me too," he replied quietly. He picked up his own jacket and folded it over his left arm. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

"Thanks." The pair walked side by side through the station and out into the dark parking lot.

"You know," Lassiter began. "I don't remember a case being this hard."

"It feels different," Juliet agreed. She stopped suddenly as a thought jumped into her brain. "Wait," she said.

Lassiter stopped and spun around to face her. "What?"

Juliet grinned. "I know how to solve the case."

"You do? How?"

"Okay, let me rephrase that. I know _who _can solve the case."


	4. Chapter 4

"No" Lassiter shook his head vehemently as he stormed back into the station "No, no, no, no, nein, non, NO

"No," Lassiter shook his head vehemently as he stormed back into the station. "No, no, no, no, nein, non, NO!"

"Carlton!" Juliet jogged to catch up to her partner.

"Absolutely not."

"Carlton!" She tried again.

"You are insane! Completely and utterly insane"

"Will you just think about it?"

"Hell no!"

"What on Earth is going on out here?" Vick stepped out of her office, hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow at the two detectives that she had ordered to leave not five minutes ago. "Was I not clear enough? I told you two to get out of here."

"My partner has cracked," Lassiter spoke first, "officially cracked."

Vick ignored the dramatics and turned to the younger detective. "O'Hara?"

"I had an idea," she explained. "About how to solve the case and Carlton here strongly disagrees with my idea."

Lassiter snorted, "That's an understatement."

"Detective, please," Karen stopped him. "O'Hara? What's this idea of yours?"

"Look, we're all tired and we've all been staring at the case files and the photos for so long we're not seeing anything anymore. We need fresh eyes."

"Are you suggesting we let the FBI take over? They've been at my heels since the body of Penny Baker was found."

Juliet shook her head, "Someone else entirely."

"O'Hara, I've got a headache the size of Texas and a two year old I've barely seen in two weeks, how about you hurry things up a little."

Juliet took in a deep breath, "Shawn Spencer."

Karen began to laugh. It wasn't until she saw the serious look in the detective's eyes that she stopped. "You're serious?"

"I know it's a pretty radical idea-"

"Another understatement," Lassiter mumbled under his breath earning two glares.

"Even though he wasn't a psychic, you can't forget the fact that he had a hundred percent solve rate."

"This is crazy!" Lassiter spoke up. "You're not actually thinking of asking him back are you? He lied to us! The police! He should be in prison, doing time for fraud!"

"Hey, I'm not exactly happy about the idea either," Juliet snapped. "But we're getting desperate. And as much as I hate to admit it, he's good at this, with or without the psychic visions."

"You do realise the field day the press will have with this?" Karen asked. "Santa Barbara PD so desperate they call back a man who conned them for two years for help?"

"Is it worse than another dead body?" Juliet asked.

Karen let out a deep breath, "No, it's not."

Lassiter shook his head, "I don't like this."

"You don't have to, Detective," Karen told him. "Get some sleep, both of you. We'll contact Mr Spencer in the morning."

They both nodded. "You too Chief," Juliet spoke up. "We're not the only ones who need sleep."

Karen replied with a weak smile.

Juliet woke in the morning more awake and refreshed than she had on a long time. She threw back the covers energetically and quickly jumped into the shower. Her mind had already begun working out how to get hold of Shawn, trying to ignore the weirdness factor of thinking about him while she was in the shower.

She hadn't seen Shawn in a year, remembering saying goodbye to him at his office. She guessed he must have left town not long after. She realised she hadn't spoken to Gus since then either. One day the three of them were eating Chinese take-out at her desk and then next thing she knew everything had fallen apart. She just hoped Shawn's dad knew where he was and maybe, just maybe Juliet could find someway to forgive Shawn, try and out the past behind her and move on.

She met Lassiter outside Henry's house an hour later, a cup of coffee in each hand. She handed her partner one and took a sip of her own. "I know you don't want to do this Carlton," she said.

"No, I don't," he agreed. "But if you think it will help catch this psycho, then I'll do what it takes to help."

Juliet smiled. "Thanks." It had taken them both a long time to become a strong partnership. His untrusting and hard attitude had once clashed with her more open and positive demeanour. She had always been able to the see the good in people and believed that love and marriage lasted, while Lassiter glared suspiciously if you did him a favour and grumbled under his breath about his own failed marriage if anyone even mentioned a wedding.

Luckily it was their love of police work, their memorisation of the police codes and procedures and their equal desire to catch bad guys that formed their friendship. And even if they did shout at each other once in a while, they both knew a free cup of coffee the next day, or a staying an hour later to help with paperwork was a silent apology. That's what Juliet had learned with her partner, actions always spoke louder than words.

They walked up to the front door. Lassiter lifted a fist and knocked on the door. They waited patiently for over a minute before a figure appeared, swinging open the door. "Mr Spencer," Lassiter greeted with a nod.

Henry frowned, "Detectives."

"Can we come in?" Juliet asked.

Henry hesitated for a moment before stepping back to let the pair inside. "I was just making coffee, you want some?" He asked.

"No thank you," Juliet replied politely, gesturing to the coffee cup in her hand.

"So why are you here?" He asked.

"It's about Shawn, Mr Spencer."

Henry stopped and looked up at the detectives, his eyes wide. "Is he-?" He whispered.

Juliet quickly realised what Henry must have thought. "He's not dead," she blurted out.

Henry let out the breath he'd been holding. He glared at Juliet and Lassiter, the anger evident as he spoke, "Don't you ever do that to me again!" He turned his back on them and walked into the kitchen. Juliet and Lassiter looked at each other before following Henry.

"We're trying to get hold of him, Mr Spencer."

"Why?" Henry asked suspiciously.

Juliet sighed and stared at the floor, "We need help….with a case."

"The serial killer?" Henry guessed and Juliet nodded. "I don't know where he is."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Look guys, I haven't seen my son in over year. I haven't spoken to him in over a year. I can't help you." He turned his back on them for the second time.

"Do you know of any place he would go?" Juliet questioned.

Henry laughed. "You're kidding right? My kid spent the better part of five years on some huge damn road trip, he could be anywhere. That's if he's still in the country, he's always had some weird affection for Mexico."

Juliet sighed. "Okay, thanks for your help Mr Spencer."

He snorted, "What help?"

"I hope you don't mind if I call if I have any more questions?"

Henry shrugged, "Go ahead."

Juliet and Lassiter turned to leave when Henry called after them. "Try Gus…he might know where Shawn is."

"Thanks," Juliet grinned. "We will."

"Hey Helen?" Gus shouted from his office, "I need the stats from the latest seroxin trials!"

"Sure," a female voice shouted back. "How about using the intercom next time?" She added.

Gus grinned. He knew how much his assistant hated him shouting. A second later Helen appeared in the doorway with a file in her hand. "Here ya go."

"Thanks," Gus smiled as he took the offered file.

"By the way, there are two detectives outside."

Gus raised an eyebrow, "Detectives?"

"Asking to speak to you."

"Me?" Gus squeaked. What could the cops want with him?

"Do you want me to send them in?"

Gus nodded, gulping audibly, "Sure." He immediately began straightening out his desk, as if an untidy desk was a felony. He looked up as a shadow fell over his desk. He looked surprised as he realised who it was. "Juliet? Lassiter?...What are you doing here?"

"We need a favour."


	5. Chapter 5

Gus stood up and circled his desk

Gus stood up and circled his desk. "You're looking for Shawn?" He asked, completely blind-sided by the question. He never thought in a millions years that Lassiter and Juliet would come to him, asking him to help them find Shawn.

Juliet nodded. "The same Shawn who pretended to be a psychic for two years, and then disappeared when he was outed as a fake?" Gus asked and Juliet nodded. "The same Shawn who-"

"Enough," Lassiter interrupted, not willing to listen to any more. "Do you know where he is?"

Gus opened his mouth to answer when a thought came to him, "Why are you looking for him anyway?"

"We need his help…..on a case."

"The serial killer case?" Gus guessed and Juliet nodded. "I have a question for you."

"What?"

"After it all came out, you wanted nothing to do with him. I was angry at him, his own Dad told him to leave town because he was being hounded by the press-"

"Your question?"

"What makes you think he'll even want to come back and help?" Gus knew Shawn better than anyone, and one thing he did know was that Shawn needed time. Whenever something went wrong, a fight with his dad, breaking up with a girlfriend, Shawn took a couple of days to sort things out in his head. The bigger the problem, the longer he disappeared for. A minor argument with his dad and Shawn needed no more than a week. The fight Shawn and Henry had had after graduation? Shawn didn't return to Santa Barbara for five months.

But this? This was something completely different. Shawn had never been gone for more than a year. Which meant that Shawn still wasn't over it, still wasn't ready to return and Gus was worried that trying to force him back would just push him away further.

"I don't think we have a choice Gus…who else can you think of that can solve a case as quickly as him?"

_No one _Gus realised. "Okay," he nodded. "I don't know where he is," he answered honestly.

Lassiter peered over his mirrored sunglasses. "You really expect me to believe he didn't tell his best friend where he was?"

"Look, he knows I fold quicker than a pack of cards. If he didn't want his dad to know where he was, then there was no way he was going to tell _me._"

"Okay," Juliet believed him. "Has he contacted you at all since he left?"

Gus sighed. "I have received no phone calls, answer phone messages, texts, letters, message by carrier pigeon or smoke signals from Shawn."

Juliet grinned. "But he has emailed you," she said incisively.

Gus' eyes widened, "Once or twice."

"Was there anything in those emails that told you where he might be?"

"He said he'd settled down somewhere, found a job pretty easily, made some friends, had a place to stay, that was it.

"You expect me to believe that blabbermouth-Spencer didn't tell you anything?" Lassiter asked.

Gus tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow at Lassiter. "He may act dumb sometimes, but he's got one of those Mensa IQ's, you know, higher than yours? He managed to keep the psychic act a secret for two years. If he doesn't want to be found, you won't find him."

Juliet tried to suppress a grin at Gus' remark but failed miserably. Lassiter glared at her. "Look O'Hara, we've tried to find out where he is and obviously we can't. Why don't we stop wasting precious time trying to find Amelia Earhart and get back to finding this killer?" Lassiter turned and disappeared out of the door.

"He hasn't changed much," Gus observed

"You expected him to?" Juliet asked in surprise.

Gus shrugged. "It's been a year."

"I know, I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?"

"You were my friend, or at least I thought you were, and after all the big hoo-ha with Shawn….I should have stayed in contact."

"Hoo-ha?"

"And I'm sorry you haven't spoken to Shawn in a while, I know you two were close," Juliet added.

"You would think I would have gotten used to his disappearing acts by now….you know this is the longest he's ever been gone."

Juliet clasped her hands together tightly. "Sometimes it feels like yesterday that you two were disrupting everything at the station."

"You know I think Shawn preferred the term entertaining. He always said it was too quiet, said it needed livening up."

"Well he certainly managed that," Juliet grinned. "You know I never thought I would miss being called Jules."

"He has that effect on people. When he's around he annoys the hell out of you but when he's gone? There's just this space, this stillness."

"Emptiness," Juliet agreed. Her cell began to ring and Juliet unclipped it from her waist and flipped it open, pressing it against her ear. "O'Hara," she greeted.

"Are you coming or what?" Lassiter asked

Juliet rolled her eyes. "I'll be right down," she replied before hanging up the phone. "I have to go. He's only had one cup of coffee this morning and he's starting to get cranky."

"Hey Juliet?" Gus called as Juliet stepped into the doorway. She stopped and turned "Look, I might not know where Shawn is, but I know how his mind works. I can help you find him."

Juliet stepped back into the office. "Are you sure?"

"You're not the only one around here who'd like to see him again," Gus replied.

"Okay," Juliet nodded. "Coming then?"

Gus grabbed his laptop and briefcase and followed Juliet out of the room. "Helen, I'll be working out of the office. I'll be on my cell!" He called back to his assistant as he and Juliet walked to the elevator.

Gus observed the Police Station as he walked through the entrance and down the hallway. It looked just as it did when he was here last but he still felt like he was in a different country. So familiar yet so different.

He found himself standing in front of the photo board. The photos of the four different crime scenes staring back at him and still, even after all this time just the sight made him queasy. He never could work out how looking at these kind of images had never bothered Shawn as much.

Gus remembered the phone call he'd had with Shawn after seeing the newspaper article. He hadn't let Shawn get a word in as he shouted at him for being stupid. He had already received a phone call from his boss that morning wanting to know how involved Gus was in the fraudulent behaviour of his best friend and Gus had only just had finished the conversation with his job still intact…only just.

An email a week later told Gus that Shawn had left and that he wouldn't be back for a while. He had wanted to be upset but he was secretly relieved. Knowing his friend was out of the spotlight meant he was also and he could start showing his boss he was dedicated to the job. It had taken months and long hours to gain his boss' trust back and even longer to prove himself worthy of a promotion.

"Gus?"

Gus spun around, "Juliet."

"Are you ready?" Gus nodded.

"Come on," she pulled him over to her des and sat him down in a spare chair. "So what are you thinking?" She asked him, a note book open and ready and a pen in her hand, poised to write down notes.

"Well I know he hadn't gone to see his mom," Gus began. "I phoned a couple of the friends of his I know about and none of them have seen him."

"The friends you know about?"

"He makes friends quickly," Gus explained. "And not even I know about every single person he met when he was travelling."

Juliet nodded. "This job you said he got, do you think he found a place that hadn't heard he was fake psychic? Continue what he was doing here?"

Gus shook his head. "No way, he wouldn't have, not without me," he said confidently. Juliet nodded again and began writing various notes down. A thought suddenly came to Gus. "But," he began and Juliet looked up at him, "it doesn't mean he hasn't phoned in any tips."

"You think-?"

"Shawn couldn't resist the news channels even if he tried," Gus replied, grinning madly.


	6. Chapter 6

"This is the most ridiculous idea you have ever had" Lassiter said "And you have had some crazy ideas"

"This is the most ridiculous idea you have ever had," Lassiter said, "and you have had some crazy ideas."

Juliet rolled her eyes at her partner. "You've said that already."

"Well don't you think it deserved saying twice?" Lassiter replied.

"We can find him this way," Juliet said confidently.

"By going through tips made to the police? Do you know how many tips are phoned in every day, hundreds, thousands! _Everyone_ thinks their postman is Ted Bundy"

"Look we know there's a slim chance-"

"Slim chance? Slim chance? O'Hara, when are you going to stop this? We have a killer to catch, not a fraudster who obviously doesn't want to be found!"

"Hey!" Gus stepped in, "No-one gave him any other choice about leaving, and he did nothing but help you find murderers."

"Look Carlton, you saw the kind of tips Shawn phoned in, so accurate that you thought he was in on some robbery case!"

"You know Shawn's tips are going to stand out from the rest."

Lassiter eyed the pair in front of him "Even still, that still doesn't narrow it down completely, and searching through hundreds of police departments…we don't have that kind of time. Every person in the phonebook with a surname beginning with E doesn't have that kind of time."

"I know, I know, but we already started looking. It took a while, but I think we've got somewhere already."

"You did?" Lassiter raised an eyebrow, "Then why didn't you just say so?"

Juliet pursed her lips and thrust the file at Lassiter, letting it smack him in the chest. He grabbed the file and opened it. He scanned the print out and frowned. "The tips were called in last year, there's been no new tips for the last eight months." He knew who made the tips, the transcripts from the calls screamed Shawn Spencer.

"We know," Juliet replied.

"Then how on earth do you know he's still here?"

"We don't," Gus said. "Shawn's not known for staying in one place for too long, he could have moved since then."

"But at least someone there might know where he is."

Lassiter nodded. "Trace the number, see where it originated from." Juliet nodded back "And O'Hara?"

"Yes Carlton?"

"Don't let this goose chase take up all your time. There's a few people closer to home they need your help more," Lassiter said before striding off.

Juliet sighed and fell down into her seat. "He's right," she breathed.

Gus snorted."About what?"

"Me, I'm spending all my time looking for Shawn, when I should be looking for the murderer."

Gus grabbed a chair from the nearest desk and wheeled it over to Juliet before sitting down. "Look, I know why I'm looking for Shawn, but why are you so desperate to find him?"

"He could help with the case," Juliet argued.

"And is that the only reason?"

Juliet knew it wasn't butshe had been angry at Shawn for so long, it had taken her a while to realize it. But once the cases started getting harder and the work days longer she realized how much she missed having him around, even when it was just a five minute visit to distract her from the banality of paperwork. He always had the ability to make her smile even during a tough case and she wasn't blind to see something had been developing between the two of them since the first day they met.

Juliet plastered on a smile, "Come on Gus, lets find Shawn."

Gus raised an eyebrow at the obvious distraction technique, but he didn't push the matter. "Okay," he agreed.

"Feel good to be back?"

Gus laughed, "Yeah, feels like I never left." He rose to his feet and held out a hand towards Juliet. Her smile turned genuine at the offered hand and she took it, letting Gus pull her to her feet.

A million web pages and several agonizingly long phone calls later, they finally managed to track down the source of the calls Shawn had made. Juliet grinned as she clicked print on her computer and waited as the printer whirred to life and produced a single print out. She picked it up and waved it around happily.

"We found him! We found Shawn!" She jumped from her desk, continuing to wave the paper around as she performed a small victory dance. It wasn't just that she had found Shawn, no it was much more than that. By finding Shawn she was offering him a chance at redemption, a chance he hadn't been given when the news about his "abilities" had come out. She knew in her gut that Shawn would be able to solve this case. He had always danced circles around them before. Maybe, just maybe he would be able to redeem his reputation and prove to people, particularly a certain head detective, that psychic or not he could still be a vital resource for the station.

"Does this mean you have something?" A voice asked from behind Juliet, she turned and smiled at her boss.

"Here Chief," Juliet handed over the piece of paper. Karen took the offered paper and began reading its contents.

She looked up at Juliet and Gus. "He's in Las Vegas?"

Juliet nodded emphatically, "Living above a motorcycle shop."

"Okay," Karen handed the information back to Juliet. "Give him a call."

"Chief?" Gus spoke up hesitantly.

Karen turned to face Gus, "Yes, Mr. Guster?"

"I don't think a phone call is going to persuade Shawn to get his butt back here."

Karen tilted her head to one side and took a step closer. "And what do you suggest Mr Guster?"

"Someone needs to go to Las Vegas and bring him back."

"Okay," Karen sounded slowly, clearly unconvinced.

"I know Shawn better than anyone," Gus explained. "And when things go bad Shawn runs and he'll keep on running until someone stops him. A phone call isn't going to convince him to face the mess he left here a year ago. It's too impersonal, he won't believe he's been forgiven, anything short of a giant teddy bear card signed by all the officers that says 'please come back' and hand delivered by a Singing Telegram is too impersonal for Shawn."

"Are you volunteering yourself?"

"Hey I would, but…" Gus paused.

"But what?"

"There's someone Shawn's more likely to listen to," he finished. Karen raised an eyebrow.

Gus climbed out of his car and turned to face the house. It had been a while since the last time he had entered the Spencer family home. After Shawn had disappeared, he had made sure to pop in on Henry once a week to make sure he was doing okay, staying for the occasional dinner, but his visits had turned from regular to the occasional visit for a cup of coffee, more and more time passing in between visits until he'd stopped visiting altogether.

Having only one thing in common meant conversation ran out quickly, especially when that one topic was off somewhere, not taking their calls. Gus doubted Henry wanted to start pouring out his heart to Gus on his rocky relationship with his son.

Gus stopped when he heard a crash in the garage and he turned, changing his destination. The double doors were wide open and Henry's precious boat was sitting upside on the concrete. He knocked on the wooden door and a figure appeared from around the corner.

"Gus!" Henry greeted happily.

"Mr Spencer," Gus nodded back.

"It's been a while," Henry noted. "Though after the visit I got yesterday I reckoned you wouldn't be far behind."

"We've found him," Gus blurted out, getting straight to the point.

Henry's expression changed at the news, "That so?"

Gus nodded, "Yeah."

"Where is he then?"

"Las Vegas," Gus answered. "Living in an apartment above a bike shop."

Gus was surprised when Henry began to chuckle. Henry shook his head and wiped away a tear that had escaped. "Of course he is, where else?" He turned and disappeared back into the garage, Gus followed.

"The Police need someone to go and get him," Gus said to Henry's back, watching as Henry dug into drawers, obviously looking for a certain tool.

"Packed your bags yet?" Henry asked.

Gus' eyes fell on an odd looking device on the side and picked it up, turning the device over in his hands. "I'm not going," he said, gripping the tool tightly.

Henry frowned, he looked over his shoulder at Gus. "Then who is?"

"Hopefully…you are."

Henry barked out a laugh, "Are you kidding?" He turned and faced Gus.

Gus put the object down and swallowed his fear. "Look, you're the one who has to do it." He took a deep breath and continued, "Have you thought that maybe Shawn takes what you say to heart? He does listen to you, he just…doesn't want you to know that he does." He smirked, "The point is, it has to be you that rights this, before it's too late to fix it. You want it to be another five years before you speak again?"

Gus was right and Henry knew it, not that he could admit it. "Alright," Henry sighed. "I'll go," he gave in.

Gus stopped and looked at Henry with his jaw on the floor. "You will?" He composed himself quickly, "Good."


	7. Chapter 7

Henry patted his chest gently, making sure his ticket was still where he'd left it

Henry patted his chest gently, making sure his ticket was still where he'd left it. It was an unconscious habit that Shawn's mom had always teased him about, but he thought there was nothing wrong with being overly cautious. He also checked his wallet was still in his back pocket and tried to remember if he'd turned the oven off, even though he knew he had checked it four times before leaving the house.

It had taken more time than Henry would admit to, to pack his bag. He was a simple man who didn't need much, but there was so much to think about. How long was he staying for? How long would it take to convince Shawn to come back? A day? A week? And then what happens if Shawn doesn't want to know or just takes off again?

Henry had felt himself turning crazy as he went back and forth between his dresser and bag, taking things and then putting them back in, muttering to himself.

He'd finally finished packing an hour later, left a quick message with his friends to make sure they didn't expect him on poker night and made his way to the airport.

It was just luck that there was a flight to Las Vegas in an hour's time and he quickly bought a ticket and made his way to the departure lounge. He sat down and tried to ignore the screaming children, the fruitless attempts by mothers to catch them and tie them down and arguing couples. It had been years since he was last on a plane, but he didn't ever remember it being that stressful.

He remembered a four year old Shawn at the airport, his first time going on vacation on a plane. His eyes had been as big as saucers taking in all the activity going on around him. Henry saw his son taking everything in and knew then that his son had what it took to become a great observer, even at such a young age

An announcement over the PA system told Henry his plane was ready for boarding and he patted his chest once more before heading towards the departure gate.

He grunted as he dropped down into the seat obviously designed for someone stick thin. He wiggled around hoping to find a more comfortable position but to no avail. He also found his knees pushing into his chest and Henry wondered why they called this leg space if there wasn't actually any space for your legs.

He'd only been settled for a couple of minutes when a figure appeared and sat down in the seat next to Henry and he instantly began chattering, making Henry reconsider this idea of chasing down his son and dragging him back home.

"Dude," the man grinned, "Las Vegas, man!"

Henry nodded politely, but kept his lips firmly shut. He repressed a grimace at the man's red face that spoke of spending too much time in the sun and the man's bald head that was dripping with sweat.

"I'm sorry, man. I'm Jerry," Jerry held out a sweaty palm in Henry's direction.

"Henry," Henry replied, not taking the offered hand. He crossed his arms tightly.

Eventually Jerry got the message and returned his hand to his lap. "I'm buzzed man!" He continued, oblivious to Henry's disinterest. "It's Vegas!" Henry rolled his eyes, "It's my buddy's stag night, well weekend really," he explained. "One whole weekend of nothing but booze, gambling and strippers!"

Henry closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

Henry looked down at the scrap of paper with the address and then back up at the building, making sure they matched up.

It was definitely a bike shop. Underneath the large sign sat a row of polished bikes of varying size and colour. Apart from that they all looked the same to Henry, death on two wheels. Two large double doors stood wide open, the only sign that they were open for business, but the darkened interior didn't look too inviting.

He looked both ways down the road before crossing, making his way quickly towards the red-bricked building, trying to suppress the nerves of seeing his son for the first time in a year.

Last time it was Shawn turning up on his doorstep, he hadn't been prepared for it but it wasn't something he could avoid. But this time, it was up to him to make the first move and Henry had no idea what he was going to say and he knew the high possibility the meeting could quickly turn sour.

He stepped out of the blinding sun and into the cooler interior of the workshop. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he raised an eyebrow at the empty room.

"Hello?" He called out, wondering how a business could survive when no-one seemed to work there.

"Be right with ya!" A voice replied from a back room and Henry sighed impatiently. He hated being made to wait. He tapped his foot against the concrete floor as he waited. Finally a figure appeared from the back, wiped his hands on a dirty rag. The man raised an eyebrow at Henry. "What can I do for'ya?" He asked.

"I'm looking for someone," Henry replied.

"Yeah?" The man looked around the empty room. "You sure you're lookin' in the right place?"

Henry nodded, "I think so."

"What's this someone's name?"

"Shawn, Shawn Spencer," Henry might not have been a cop anymore but he still knew recognised the flicker in the man's eyes. He knew Shawn. "Where is he?"

"Why don't ya tell me why you're lookin' for him first?" The man countered.

"He's my son," Henry answered honestly.

The man's eyes widened. "Oh really?"

"Really."

The man grinned and took another step towards Henry. "He's never spoken about any family before."

_Not surprising _Henry thought. "Now are you going to tell me where my son is or not?"

The man said nothing as his eyes looked upward. He pointed to the ceiling. "Stairs out back," he finally said.

Henry nodded, "Thank you."

"Name's Harry by the way."

"Henry," He replied before tuning and stepping back out into the sunshine. He strode down the sidewalk and then turned down the alleyway, quickly finding a metal staircase that led to a first floor apartment, a very familiar motorcycle sitting by the stairs. He climbed the stairs quickly, knowing that if he thought about it took much he would turn and head back to Santa Barbara.

It had always been like that. Gun wielding psychos, gangs and hyped up druggies he could handle no problem, his son? A whole other level.

He reached the door, took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He looked away from the door as he waited for an answer.


	8. Chapter 8

It was early afternoon when Shawn dragged himself out of bed. It was his day off and he planned to spend the day in sweats, eating pizza and watching TV. He padded out of his bedroom and leisurely made his way towards the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge and yawned loudly as he searched for the pizza had had left in the fridge the night before.

He grinned as he found the box and pulled it out of the fridge, he dropped it on the work surface and flipped open the cardboard lid. The cold Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple still looked as delicious as it did last night. He picked up a slice, tilted his head back and took a large bite from the triangle. His "breakfast" was interrupted by a knock at the door.

He put the slice back down in the box and made his way to the door, wiping his greasy hands on his sweats. He was still chewing as he grabbed the door handle and swung it open.

Shawn froze, his hand still gripping the door handle tightly. His heart began to beat faster. Not in a million years would he have anticipated that this would happen. He realised he hadn't said anything and having a mouthful of pizza wasn't helping. He swallowed hard.

"Dad."

"Shawn."

"What? What are you doing here?" Shawn asked one of the many questions that was racing through his mind.

"Can we talk?" Henry asked. "Inside?" He suggested when Shawn made no move to let him in the apartment.

When Henry's words finally sunk in, Shawn took a step back, leaving enough room for Henry to squeeze past. Shawn followed Henry into the kitchen and watched his father taken in the small apartment.

"Interesting place," Henry said.

Shawn rolled his eyes as his mind translated _interesting place _into _this place is a dump. _"It serves its purpose," Shawn replied. "So are you going to tell me how you found me?"

"I didn't," Henry answered. "The police did."

Shawn looked surprised. "The cops are looking for me?" He licked his dry lips and ran a hand through his mussed up hair. "Have they changed their mind? About an investigation?" He asked, although he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"They're not looking for you to put you in jail," Henry answered. "Believe it or not kiddo, they want you to help solve a case."

Shawn's eyes widened. "Solve a case?" He asked, barely believing what his father was saying. His mind instantly put the puzzle pieces together. "The serial killer," he realised.

It was Henry's turn to look surprised, "You've been keeping tabs?"

Shawn shrugged as if it was nothing ,"It was on the news."

"I knew you couldn't stay out of the game."

"The _game,_ Dad?" Shawn raised an eyebrow at his father. He turned away from Henry and marched towards the trash. He dug a hand into the rubbish and pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper. The paper was uncrumpled and thrown in his father's face. "_This _isn't a game, Dad."

"No it isn't," Henry agreed, "but Detective Lassiter and O'Hara, they're losing."

"It's not my problem."

"You're delusional if you think it isn't."

"Dad, I was kicked out of town. No-one wanted anything to do with me. Lassiter and Juliet definitely didn't want to know me. And now I'm supposed to come running back?"

"Yes," Henry said firmly, taking a step towards his son. "Because they need help."

Shawn laughed, "Yeah, the man that tried to have me jailed wants _my _help." He turned and left the kitchen, Henry on his heels. Shawn re-entered his bedroom and began to make himself busy with making his bed for the first time in months. "After everything that has happened," Shawn continued, keeping his eyes firmly on the task in front of him. "You think I can go back? You think it'll be that easy?"

"Did I say it would be easy?" Henry asked from his place in the doorway.

"No thanks…I can't do it, not again."

"I know you Shawn. I know you've been calling in tips to the Las Vegas PD. I know you've been spending night after night watching the news, solving the crimes from your couch and wishing there was something you could do about it."

"You know nothing about me," Shawn dropped the covers and brushed past Henry, heading into the living area.

"Stop running!" Henry shouted and Shawn froze mid-step.

Shawn turned slowly. "You are the one…" he said, his voice quiet and barely controlled. It was obvious he was finding it hard not to start shouting "You are the one that told me to leave, and I did."

"I told you to take some time off, take a break, not leave Santa Barbara for good!"

"You really think that I could ever return, No one trusts me dad!"

"Yeah," Henry nodded, "and now the people you don't know don't remember who you are and the people you care about? They don't care about what happened."

"It's not that simple!"

"I know that Shawn!" Henry snapped. "You have always taken the easy way out, if it was too hard, if someone was better at it, you gave up! You have given up on every single thing in your life. Your jobs, your friends, your _family."_

"I had no choice!" Shawn shouted.

"And now you do!" Henry matched Shawn's volume. "Come back, help find the killer and redeem yourself or stay here and turn our back on everything." Shawn's eyes fell to the floor. "Shawn look at me," Henry ordered. When Shawn didn't move Henry repeated the request. "Please," he added. Slowly Shawn lifted his head and his eyes met Henry's. "The police want _you,_" he started. "They have spent hours tracking every lead, every witness, every last scrap of evidence and they have nothing. _Nothing_. And out of _anyone_ they could ask for help, they've asked _you_. Because they know you can solve this case, you're the only one who can Shawn."

Shawn took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry you wasted a journey," he spoke finally.

"Shawn!" Henry cried in frustration.

"You think stubbornness is genetic?" Shawn asked before turning his back on his father. "Bye, Dad," he said firmly, making sure Henry knew it was the end of the discussion.

Shawn made a good point though, Henry thought to himself. Shawn was the most stubborn person he'd ever met. He made decisions quickly and stuck to them, which meant it was pointless to try again with Shawn. He had decided to stay in Las Vegas and that was what he was going to stick with. "This is a big mistake," Henry told him before turning and making his way out of his son's apartment.


	9. Chapter 9

Henry closed the door behind him and stood at the top of the metal staircase. He sucked in a deep breath, held it in for a couple of seconds. He looked at the door and wondered what his son was doing now. Had he brushed it all off without a second thought or was he pacing up and down the corridor, his words racing through his mind.

Henry wasn't sure it mattered, Shawn had made his decision.

He dipped into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone, quickly dialling Gus' number.

"Burton Guster," Shawn's best friend answered professionally.

"Gus, its Henry."

"Mr Spencer, did you get to Las Vegas okay?"

"Look," Henry said, jumping to the point of the phone call. "I found Shawn."

"You did?" Gus asked and Henry could hear the excitement in his voice. "How is he?"

"He's doing well," Henry answered honestly. He couldn't fault Shawn, he had a job, no matter how questionable it looked in the workshop downstairs, the photos of nights out on the town tacked to the walls in the kitchen told Henry that Shawn had found friends, although Shawn had never found it hard to make friends and Shawn had an apartment. Shawn was like a cat, no matter how he fell; he always landed on his feet, always had and probably always would. "I talked to him Gus."

"And?"

"I'm coming back home this evening...alone," Henry could almost hear the disappointment in Gus' sigh.

"Oh."

"I tried, but he doesn't want to know."

"I get it."

"I'm sorry, Gus."

"It's fine, really. At least we know he's okay."

"Yeah," Henry agreed, although he had hoped for a lot more than that

"You need a ride from the airport?" Gus offered.

"I'm fine, thanks. Got my truck."

"Okay."

"I'll see you soon, Gus."

"You too, Mr Spencer." Henry opened his mouth, ready to tell Gus for the thirtieth time to call him Henry when he realised Gus had hung up. He snapped the phone shut and dropped it back in his pocket.

"Didn't go so well, huh?" A voice asked and it took Henry a second to locate the person to go with the voice. He looked down the staircase and his eyes fell upon Harry, leaning against the building, one hand on his hip.

"It went fine," Henry answered with a fixed smile. He wasn't about to go share his personal problems with a complete stranger. Harry shrugged and left.

Gus hung up the phone and dropped the phone onto Juliet's desk.

"Well?" Juliet asked. Gus looked up and met her eyes. He shook his head silently. "Oh."

"Finally," Lassiter cried. "Can we please stop chasing Shawn Spencer, who obviously doesn't care about what happens and get back to the case?" Lassiter pulled himself to his feet and moved towards the case board. He began talking, but neither Juliet nor Gus was listening to a word.

A flash of anger past through Juliet's eyes before disappointment and failure showed through. "He's right," Juliet sighed. "We should get back to the case."

"It was worth a try."

"I know," Juliet nodded, plastering on a smile. "I guess he cares less about us than I thought."

"Hey," Gus said sharply. "Shawn is a complicated guy, okay? You can't expect him to forget all this history instantly, the man _doesn't forget,_" Gus said. "But you're right," he added. "He's an idiot, a huge idiot, for not helping."

Juliet laughed. "I should get back to work."

"Hey, I might not be Shawn, but I've spent enough time around him, maybe I can be another set of eyes?"

"Are you sure?"

Gus grinned, "I missed this."

"I hadn't noticed," Juliet replied with a smirk.

The threesome worked for the rest of the day, each taking turns going on coffee and food runs. Lassiter spent most of his time staring at the case file, going back and forth between the information in the file and the photos tacked up on the board. Juliet made the phone calls and did the computer research, while Gus spent his time divided between the two detectives, choosing to spend slightly more time with O'Hara to keep himself sane. Gus yawned. It had definitely been a while since he pulled an all nighter and the copious amounts of coffee wasn't helping. The buzz and activity in the station kept him from falling asleep.

"Okay," Gus sighed wearily. "Let's go through this again."

Juliet nodded patiently, "Okay, Freddie Albright, seventy nine years old, found in the woods with his dog.

"How was he killed?"

"It was an injection of something," Juliet reached across the desk and rummaged through a pile of files before pulling out the right file. She flipped it open and her eyes scanned the pages for the information she was looking for. "Ah, here it is," she looked back up at Gus. "Tetrodotoxin."

Gus frowned, "That sounds familiar."

"Pufferfish," Juliet supplied.

"Pufferfish?" Gus repeated.

Juliet nodded. "Symptoms include sweating, headache, weakness, lethargy, ataxia, in-coordination, tremor, paralysis, cyanosis, seizures, respiratory failure, coma, and hypotension, to name just a few."

"Ouch," Gus winced

"The amount needed to reach a lethal dose by injection is eight micrograms per kg, that's one _millionth_ of a gram."

"That's barely anything."

"The killer used _four times_ that amount for each victim."

Gus let out a breath, this killer wasn't just evil, he was a complete and utter psycho with no compassion, no conscience, no morals. "The other victims?"

"Penny Baker, nineteen, found on the beach naked, Richard Christov, thirty four, found in a rowing boat and Mia Derrings, twenty one, found on stage at the ballet, still in her costume, all had puncture wounds from an injection."

"He's working through the alphabet," Juliet nodded. "E's next."

"It's not like we can phone every person in the Santa Barbara phonebook with the last name that starts with E and say, 'Hey! You may be in danger."

"I guess not."

"I don't think anyone is sleeping soundly right now, especially with the press eating this all up like a gourmet dinner."

"And there are no connections between the four victims?"

"None," she confirmed. "We've looked into absolutely everything, from their favourite flavour ice-cream to the type of laundry detergent they use."

"Then how is he picking his victims? Just any person with the right letter name?"

"It's a possibility," Juliet agreed. "I just don't think that's how he's choosing."

"You don't?"

"Everything about these kills has been organised down to the last detail, the poison, the timing, the place, the lack of evidence. I don't believe the same person whose put that much thought into killing someone has put so little thought into choosing the victim."

Gus studied Juliet for a second. "This psycho has gotten inside of your head. Have you thought about anything else since the first victim?" He asked.

_Shawn._ "No," Juliet answered. Suddenly the background noise died down to almost silence. It was so quite you could have heard a pin drop. Gus frowned and looked up, his eyes scanned the large room for the source of the unusual silence until his eyes fell on a figure standing in the hallway, a bag slung over his shoulder.

Lassiter and Juliet had also noticed the figure, their jaws dropped and their eyes wide.

The man dropped the bad on the floor by his feet, "Is someone going to fill me in then?" Shawn asked.


	10. Chapter 10

It took a second for Gus to shake off the surprise. Shawn was standing in front of him. He didn't look any different, but Gus hadn't expected Shawn to change. He wondered briefly if he had fallen asleep over Juliet's desk and this was all a weird dream, but Gus highly doubted it. "Shawn!"

Shawn looked at his friend and grinned, "Gus, it's good to see you."

"You're here!" Gus replied, stating the obvious.

"Guess so," Shawn nodded, shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't understand. I talked to your dad, he said you weren't coming."

_Shawn heard the door slam shut and let go a deep breath. A surprise visit from his father who he hadn't seen in over a year had taken it out of him. It had been a while since he had fought with anyone. _

_He didn't know what his father was thinking, how could he possibly go back to Santa Barbara, after everything that had happened. _

_He had tried to make a clean break; cut off all ties and start a new life somewhere else and he had managed it. A job, friends, an apartment, what more did he need? _

_He walked into the kitchen, his eyes instantly falling in the scrap paper on the floor where he had dropped it earlier. The faces of the victims stared back up at him. His stomach felt heavy and his head was buzzing. He was selfish, Shawn realised. This whole time he had been thinking about himself. It wasn't all about him. His dad was right, he could help. _

_He ran from the room and into his bedroom. He dropped to the floor and reached under the bed for a bag. He dropped the bed on the bed and began throwing clothes into the bag, barely caring what they were. He would probably end up with five shirts and no trousers. _

_He grabbed his wallet from the side and ran out the door. _

"_Hey Harry!" Hey shouted as he rand down the staircase and round the building into the workshop. "Harry!" He called again._

"_Quit shouting boy," Harry replied, walking up to Shawn. "Where's the fire?"_

"_I have to go."_

"_Go? Go where?"_

"_Santa Barbara, my dad, some people need my help," Shawn tried to get out but it was all coming out wrong. _

"_I saw him leave, can't say he looked good."_

"_I know, my fault, as usual."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow. "Okay, go," he decided finally. _

"_I'll be back," Shawn assured. _

"_I know you will," Harry replied with confidence. _

_Shawn grinned, "See ya Harry."_

_Harry slapped Shawn on the shoulder. "Bye kid," he returned the smile and then watched as Shawn ran out of the workshop _

"I changed my mind," Shawn replied.

"I'm glad you did, man."

"I'm gonna solve this case."

Gus nodded, "I know."

Lassiter rolled his eyes, "Can we please end this sickly sweet reunion and get back to the case?"

"Lassie," Shawn took a step towards the smartly dressed detective. "Still grumpy as ever I see."

"Spencer," Lassiter greeted, "I knew you had to be back in the building when the throbbing in my head returned."

Shawn glanced as the young detective. "Juliet," he greeted, no emotion in voice.

"It's good to see you Shawn," she replied.

"Let's get this over with shall we?" Shawn sighed. "The quicker I can solve this thing, the quicker I can get back to my life." Gus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Juliet led Shawn to the case board where all the photos and all the pertinent information was tacked up. She watched as he absorbed the information in fascination. For the first time she wasn't seeing a psychic try to communicate with the spirits, she was seeing a man take in information like it was food and seeing the cogs in his brain whirr to life.

A flash of uncertainty passed through his mind as he realised how rusty he was at this. What if he couldn't solve the case? His hand went out to touch the first photo, "Albright." His hand moved to the next photo. "Baker," then the next. "Christov," then finally settled on the fourth photo, "Derrings."

"What are you thinking?" Juliet asked from behind him.

He didn't answer; his mind was too focused on the case. The victims, there was a connection between them all he just needed to figure it out. It would help him work out who the next victim would be. The answer came to him suddenly.

His eyes widened and he turned away from the board.

"Where are you going?" Juliet called as Shawn started towards the exit.

"I'll be back," Shawn replied.

"Yeah?" Lassiter folded his arms tight across his chest. "When? In another year?"

Shawn said nothing as he turned the corner and disappeared. A minute later they heard a car starting. Gus raised an eyebrow and ran the window. His jaw dropped as his eyes fell on the empty space where he had left his car. "He took my car!"

Shawn strode into the station over an hour later, a folder under his arm and purpose in his eyes. Gus jumped up from his seat energetically, even though it was well past midnight.

"Finally," Lassiter said. "Where have you been?"

"Do you care?" Shawn replied.

Lassiter ignored the remark, "Do you know how long we've been waiting?"

Shawn didn't need to look at the clock on the wall to answer. "One hour, five minutes."

Lassiter opened his mouth and closed it again, imitating a goldfish. Shawn stopped in front of the board and began taking down all the papers and photos he didn't need, dropping them carelessly on the floor, leaving the four photos he needed in a row on the board.

He pointed to the first photo, the first crime scene. "Freddie Albright," he said.

"Yes," Lassie drew out slowly. "We know that."

Shawn pulled out a piece of paper and stuck it underneath. "This is a painting by Albrecht Altdorfer."

"What no floppy hands and arm waving?" Lassiter asked.

""I'm sorry Lassie; I left my floppy arms on my Mr Potato Head," Shawn retorted sharply. "I did lose his shoes though, now he just rolls everywhere," he added. Lassiter rolled his eyes.

Juliet took a step towards the board. The painting was of an old man with a long beard, sans clothes and a white sheet around his waist. A dog lay by his feet in the forest. The crime scene was almost an exact replica of the painting.

Shawn took a step to the side and pointed to the next photo "Penny Baker", a second picture was pulled out of the file under his arm and he stuck it underneath the second photo. "Sandro Botticelli's Birth of Venus."

Again the photos were almost exact. Baker's long flowing hair arranged around her naked body and a shell at her feet.

A third picture was placed under the third crime scene "Gustave Caillebotte". A man in a rowing boat, dressed up in a suit, the same suit Christov was found in.

"And lastly," another picture was pulled from the file, "Edgar Degas".

"They match," Juliet remarked as she stared at the two ballerinas, one in mid dance, pastel on paper, the other laying on the stage in the same posture. "All of them."

"That's the connection? Famous painters?" Gus asked.

"How the hell did you figure that out?"

"I had a girlfriend who worked in a gallery," Shawn answered with a shrug.

"Kelly?" Gus asked.

"Nina," Shawn replied.

"Okay," Lassiter took back control of the conversation. "You worked out the connection, now how about telling us who's next."

"What? I'm supposed to do all the work?"

Lassiter glowered. "My tolerance for you might have built up with you around, but I haven't had to deal with you in a long while. So you better start talking before I start shooting," he said through gritted teeth.

Shawn sighed. "Your killer is choosing the artists and paintings from a website, www dot the a to z of artists dot com," he answered. "Albrecht Altdorfer, Sandro Botticelli, Gustave Caillebotte, Edgar Degas…."

"And?" Juliet asked.

"Thomas Eakins," Shawn pulled the last photo from the file and stuck it up on the board. "It's called Portrait of Archbishop William Henry Elder."

"So we're looking for an Archbishop with a surname beginning with the letter E?" Gus asked.

Juliet grinned, "That narrows down the search dramatically."

"And my work here is done," Shawn bowed dramatically. He turned and began to leave, grabbing his bag from under Juliet's desk.

"You worked this all out yourself?" Lassiter asked, as skeptical as usual.

Shawn stopped and turned to face Lassiter, tired by the lack of faith in his abilities. "Where do you think I got the information? Clue-mart? On sale, four for ten bucks? Give me some credit!" He said for turning and leaving.


	11. Chapter 11

Shawn jogged down the steps of the precinct

Shawn jogged down the steps of the precinct. After going straight to the station from the airport and then jumping into the case with both feet he was a little tired. All he wanted to do was find a hotel and crash.

It seemed his father had other ideas. Shawn stopped dead in front of his father, leaning against the side of his truck, his arms and legs crossed.

Shawn frowned in confusion. "How long have you been out here?" He asked.

Henry glanced down at the ground and then back up at his son, "Not long."

Shawn took a step forward. "Uh huh," he sounded suspiciously.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

"Yeah me too, change of plans," Shawn said and Henry nodded. "How did you know I was here?"

"Gus," Henry answered. "He called while you were out doing your thing."

"Traitor," Shawn mumbled.

"Come on then," Henry nodded at the truck.

"What? No," Shawn shook his head.

"Oh yes, you're coming to stay with me."

Shawn laughed, "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

"Shawn-

"No," Shawn said firmly. "We don't do well in close quarters Dad, we'll kill each other."

"Get. In. the. Truck," Henry said, making sure it wasn't a request.

Shawn rolled his eyes, but made no motion to disagree. He circled the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing into the passenger side. He was buckling himself in as his father climbed in.

"I'm not staying," he finally blurted out. "I'll be gone as soon as the case is wrapped up."

Henry froze, resisting the urge to say _we'll see. _He nodded dumbly. He pushed the keys into the ignition and started the engine, pulling out of the police station parking lot and onto the main road.

Uncomfortable silence filled the truck during the short journey from the station to the house and it reminded Henry how little he had in common with his son. They'd never managed to succeed at the small talk thing.

It wasn't like Shawn was making things easy, Henry mused as he eyed his son out of the corner of his eye. Shawn was looking out the window even though it was too dark to see anything.

Henry finally pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine. "We're here," Henry spoke up.

"I noticed," Shawn muttered before jumping out the truck. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the door without saying a word.

Henry sighed audibly before following Shawn. He unlocked the door before stepping back to let Shawn in.

Shawn strode into the house and then stopped suddenly. "You moved the couch," he blurted out.

"Yeah," Henry stepped up behind Shawn and scratched the back of his head. "Looks better that way though doesn't it?"

Shawn swallowed, "I guess." It wasn't just the couch though, it was the new curtains, the new bookcase against the back wall, pictures missing off the wall and new ones in it's place. It was all different. He barely recognised the house he grew up in.

"You know I've had all this extra time on my hands," Henry explained with a shrug. "Thought it was a about time I did a little updating to this place." Shawn nodded dumbly.

His old home was a strange place to him now. It didn't even smell the same. The deep smell of wood and varnish from homemade furniture was a distant memory; now all Shawn could smell was… "Is that pot pourri?" Shawn raised an eyebrow at the bowl on the coffee table filled with dried flowers and other funny smelling shapes. "Why do you have _pot pourri?"_

"I'm seeing someone," Henry admitted reluctantly, he knew how much trouble his son had with him dating. "She likes it."

"That's just…..great," Shawn forced out.

"It's still early days," Henry clapped his hands together before quickly changing the subject. "Okay then, time for bed I think, you know where your room is."

"You mean you haven't turned it into a game room?" Shawn muttered.

"Okay well I'm going to ignore that as you obviously need sleep," Henry brushed past Shawn. "I'll see you in the morning," he added before disappearing up the stairs. Shawn heard his father's footsteps above him as he walked down the corridor and then into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He rubbed his tired eyes before following his dad up the stairs, resisting the urge to regress to age fifteen when he would stomp up the stairs angrily after an argument with his dad. Energy seeped out of his body after every step as he passed two closed doors, making his way down the corridor. He stopped in front of a third closed door. He wondered briefly if his father was already asleep before turning to the left, gripping the doorknob and pushing the door open. He stepped into his old bedroom with his breath held, wondering what changes had been made the room.

He didn't know what to think when he found the room exactly how he had left it. It was like his father hadn't stepped inside the room since he left. He let out the breath he was holding and closed the door behind him.

He was too tired to work out his father's motives, instead he dropped his bag on the floor, shucked of his jeans and fell forwards onto his bed, falling unconscious almost immediately.

Shawn woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking. He scrunched up his eyes trying to hand onto the remnants of sleep.

"Breakfast!" He heard his father shout from downstairs and he groaned at the rude awakening.

"Noooo," he whined. Being woken up in the mornings was in his top five pet hates. Staying in bed wasn't an option, his dad would come up and make sure he was awake, and Shawn still remembered his dad coming into his room when he was a teenager and pouring cold water over his head. He turned over onto his back, yawned loudly before sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

Shawn stepped out into the hallway in time to hear his dad shout up the stairs again. "Yeah, yeah!" He shouted back. "Be down in five!"

"It'll be cold in five! Henry replied.

Shawn rolled his eyes. He made his way down the corridor to the bathroom. "Guess I'll have to eat it cold then!" He shouted before closing the bathroom door behind him.

He stepped up to the mirror and grimaced at the bags under his eyes. He didn't know what the time was but from the dark circles under his eyes he guessed it was early. He turned on the cold tap and cupped his hands under the water. He bent over the sink and threw the cold water onto his face. He reached blindly for a towel and patted his face dry. He inspected his face again, feeling satisfied with the small improvement. At least he didn't look half asleep anymore.

He opened up the mirror door and inspected the contents in the cupboard. The usual over the counter medicines sat on the shelves still in their packets as well as his father's prescription medicine for his back pain. Shawn grasped the bottle and studied it, frowning when he realised his father was now taking double the dosage. His back pain must have gotten worse since he had left.

A strange house, a new girlfriend and health problems. "what else had he missed in a year?" Shawn wondered.

He finally made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Well look who finally decide to make an appearance," Henry greeted from the stove, his hand gripped around a frying pan handle whilst the other hand gripped a plastic spatula.

"What's for breakfast?" Shawn asked, ignoring his father's remark.

"Pineapple pancakes," Henry answered. He moved the pan to the table and slid the pancake onto a plate before pushing the plate in front of Shawn.

Shawn eyes his father warily, "Okay, what's up?"

"What do you mean?" Henry questioned as he sat down to his own pancakes.

"You only make these when you have bad news, pineapple pancakes? Grandpa's dead, pineapple pancakes? Mom is moving out."

Henry lifted both his hands up, "No ulterior motive for the pancakes, I swear."

"Are you sure?"

"Will you please eat the damn pancakes that I made for you because I haven't had the opportunity to make my son breakfast and eat said breakfast with him in a long time."

"Fine, let me just pack my bags for the guilt trip I'm going on."

Henry glared, "Not funny." Shawn picked up his knife and fork and cut a large piece of the pancake before stuffing it in his mouth. "I see your table manners haven't improved in a year."

"Guess not," Shawn said with his mouth full of food.

Henry opened his mouth to retort when the phone began to ring. He closed his mouth before pushing his chair back and making his way over to the phone. "Henry Spencer," he answered.

"Mr Spencer, this is Juliet O'Hara."

"You looking for my son?" Henry asking, gaining the attention of Shawn.

"Yes sir."

"Well he's right here, let me pass you over," Henry held out the phone and Shawn quickly swallowed the pancake in his mouth before taking the phone.

"Hello?" Shawn answered.

"It's Juliet."

Shawn sighed, "What do you want?"

Juliet ignored the tone Shawn's voice. "We've located who the killer is going to go after next. Reverend George Earns, he lives near the harbour. We're setting up observation on him. Hopefully we can catch the killer when he tries to get Earns."

"Okay."

"I was wondering if you wanted to come help."

"I don't know."

"Please?" Juliet attempted.

"Fine, it's not like I have anything else to do."

"Great, I'll come pick you up in an hour," Juliet replied before hanging up the phone.

Shawn dropped the phone onto the table before digging back into his breakfast.


	12. Chapter 12

Juliet knocked on the door and then composed herself as she waited for an answer

Juliet knocked on the door and then composed herself as she waited for an answer. She pulled at her skirt and flattered down her hair which had decided today of all days to go frizzy.

The door opened as she was checking her make up in the window reflection. She stopped and turned to face Shawn, her face turning red at being caught. "Hi," she greeted with a nervous smile.

"Hi," Shawn returned nonchalantly. His voice soft, missing the natural exuberance that Juliet remembered.

"You know I wasn't sure you'd be up so early when I called," she began, remembering the times she would call Shawn in the morning and receiving a half asleep _"'lo?" _and then a large yawn in reply to her cheerful greeting.

Shawn gave a half shrug, "Yeah, well my dad's like an alarm clock that doesn't care you want another hour of sleep."

Juliet nodded. "You want to get some breakfast first?" She offered.

"I already ate," Shawn replied.

"Oh, okay, well lets just….go then."

"Okay," Shawn reached for his jacket with had somehow travelled from his bedroom floor to the front door. He shrugged it on and stepped out into the cool morning sun. He sniffed the sea-salt air for the first time in over a year and breathed with a sigh. Shawn followed Juliet down the driveway stopping suddenly on the sidewalk. He frowned at the silver sedan parked out in front of the house. "What happened to that green bug of yours?"

Juliet shrugged. "It was time for a change," she replied as she dug into her pocket for her car keys. She pressed the button on the key and the car came to life.

"It's a nice car, must have cost-"

"Carlton found me a good deal," Juliet interrupted.

"_Carlton,_" Shawn sounded out the name, feeling so unfamiliar on his lips, "….right." Shawn climbed into the passenger side and pulled the seatbelt over his body. He watched as Juliet climbed into the driver's side. "What happened to the cats?" He asked.

"What?"

"The cats."

"How did you-" She stopped herself, "right, I remember." She fidgeted with the rear view mirror as she answered, "They're at my parents now, I developed allergies."

"I'm sorry."

Juliet gave a half shrug as she pulled away from the curb. "It's fine."

"I didn't realise how much had changed in a year."

"Time doesn't stop when you're not here ya know," Juliet snapped, immediately regretting the outburst. "Sorry."

"No, you're right."

Juliet pursed her lips as she drew up the courage to talk. They needed to talk about what happened, the way they had left things left so much unsaid, so much issues left hanging and now there was a huge elephant in the corner, getting bigger every second both of them stayed silent. She opened her mouth just has Shawn spoke.

"Can I put the radio on?" He asked. She knew it was a stall tactic but for some reason she didn't mind. They were going to have the talk eventually no matter what Shawn did to get out of it.

"Sure," she sighed. He reached across to the radio and played around with it until he found some rock music loud enough to halt any upcoming conversations.

"So," Shawn drawled once they'd arrive outside George Earn's house and the radio was turned off. "Does he know we're out here?"

"Nope," Juliet replied.

"I guess that wouldn't go over well," Shawn continued. "Hey Father, we have reason to believe you're next on the killers list, but instead of getting out of town we're just gonna use you as bait."

"We're out the front and Lassiter's watching the back, so he's well protected."

"This guy has already killed four people, left no forensic evidence at any of the crime scenes and there are no witnesses, and you think one cop in the back and one in the front is enough?"

"It's more than the other four victims got," Juliet replied.

"You feel guilty," Shawn noted perceptively, "That you couldn't save them."

Juliet turned to face Shawn. "Of course I do!" Shawn didn't answer. He turned his head and looked out the window at the house they were watching. "Shawn, we should talk."

"About what?" Shawn replied, avoiding Juliet's gaze.

"How we left things," Juliet answered.

"How we left things?" Shawn repeated.

"Yes."

"Not now," Shawn said.

"But-"

"Please," Shawn interrupted, his head whipping around to face Juliet. "Just solve the case, catch this killer."

"Only if you promise we talk afterwards."

"Juliet." She winced, wishing for once he would call her Jules.

"Promise," she forced.

"Fine," he sighed. "We'll talk afterwards," he replied through gritted teeth.

She smiled at the little victory, she might have to wait for the talk but she could be very patient.

Shawn entered the café and immediately spotted Gus. "Hey," he greeted as he walked up the table and sat down in the spare chair.

"How's the stake out going?" Gus asked.

"Okay," Shawn answered with a shrug. "At least I get a break for lunch and you know what? I better be getting paid for this, and my rates have risen, you know," Shawn waved his hand about. "Inflation and all that jazz," Shawn picked up the menu. "The food here is definitely one thing I missed."

"The only thing?" Gus asked.

Shawn peered over the top of the menu. "Is that some not so subtle dig at the fact that I've only emailed twice in the space of a year, didn't tell you where I was and didn't really want to come back in the first place?"

"Only if your reply has some sort of apology for the lack of communication, especially about where you were and for not wanting to come back," Gus returned.

"Okay, I get it, you're upset, I'm sorry."

Gus leaned back in his chair and folded his arms stubbornly, "I don't think you are."

Shawn rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics. "How much proof do you need?"

"I'll make a list of things you can do to make it up to me."

"You get right on that." Their conversation was interrupted as the waiter took their orders. As he left Shawn looked back at Gus. "I _am _sorry," Shawn repeated with all the sincerity he could muster.

Gus nodded, "I know."

"Good."

"So how's the stake out really going?" Gus asked with a grin.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Juliet stuck in a car together with each other for company?"

"Ah that." The waiter brought their drinks over and Shawn took a long sip of his pineapple juice.

"Stop stalling."

"I wasn't stalling I was drinking," Shawn defended himself.

"Are you and Juliet even talking?" Gus asked, dragging Shawn back to the topic in question.

"We're talking….just not about what _she _wants to talk about."

"What is going on between the two of you? You barely said two words to her at the station."

"Things are just complicated. I don't know what's going to happen."

"What do you want to happen?" Gus pushed.

Shawn didn't really know. He had tried to avoid thinking about what was going on between Juliet and himself. It wasn't worth thinking about if he was going to go back to Las Vegas as soon as this was all over. He hadn't thought about what would happen afterwards. Would he stay in contact now? Or would he go back and forget this all happened? "I don't know," he answered his friend honestly. "Guess I'll cross that bridge when Juliet drags me to the edge and makes me."

Gus chuckled, "What I would give to be a fly on the wall for that conversation."

"I can't see anything," Shawn moaned in the darkness. Shawn had rejoined Juliet after lunch and the pair had been sitting in the car for hours.

"That's because it's dark outside," Juliet answered.

"Well how are we supposed to keep an eye on this guy if I can't even see the house?"

A pair of night vision binoculars were pushed into his chest a little harder than necessary.

"That better?"

Shawn pulled the binoculars to his eyes and looked at the house, now tinged green. "Cool." Five minutes later Shawn groaned. "Great," he muttered.

"What now?"

"I need the bathroom."

"You shouldn't have so much to drink at lunch."

"Okay, you can stop channelling my father now," Shawn crossed his legs.

"Guess you'll have to hold it in until we're relieved in a couple of hours."

"I don't know, I might have relieved myself by then."

"That's just gross." She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "You never did think ahead did you," she muttered.

Shawn twisted his head round and glared at Juliet. "What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, his eyes narrowed.

"You just didn't think, did you? About what would happen when your _secret _came out."

"I told you I didn't want to talk about this."

"Too late!" Juliet snapped, "You can't avoid me forever Shawn."

"Well I can try," he replied, folding his arms.

"What? Go hide back in Las Vegas?"

"Yes!" Shawn replied, "That's what I'll do, I'll go and you'll never have to deal with me."

"This isn't about me _dealing _with you Shawn, this is about _us _talking about _us." _

"No this is your need to feel better about yourself because you feel guilty over the way _you _left things."

"Me?" Juliet spluttered, "You're the one that left! You're the one that left things!"

"Because you and Gus and my Dad and the whole of Santa Barbara was pissed at me! You really think I could have stayed?"

"I don't think you even tried."

"You could barely look at me in the eyes."

Juliet looked up and met Shawn's eyes, "That's because you lied to me. You were my friend and you lied to me for two whole years."

"When was I supposed to tell the truth? Huh? When Lassiter had me handcuffed because I solved a case by watching the news on TV? After I'd solved the McCallum case? When Juliet? How could any of you understand how I do what I do when I can barely explain it myself?"

Juliet sighed, her eyes fell away from Shawn and turned to look out of the window. "Shawn-"

"I was helping people, catching killers, you really think you and Lassiter and the chief would have let me help if they knew I was just guy with photographic memory?"

"Shawn-" Juliet tried again.

Shawn didn't stop talking, he was on a roll now and he wasn't going to stop "Do you realise how much I risked as well? My reputation, Gus', all to help people. I didn't have to you know,"

"Shawn!" Juliet shouted.

Shawn snapped his mouth shut and frowned at Juliet, "What?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed out the window, "Something's happening." Shawn turned his head and his eyes fell in the light that had turned on in the Reverend's house. Shawn grabbed the binoculars from his lap and pressed them against his eyes. "What is it?" Juliet asked. She knew it could just be Earns grabbing a glass of water in the kitchen, but she also knew it could be something else.

Shawn squinted s he looked through the binoculars. The light on illuminated the kitchen but there was no movement. "It's probably that Earns guy," Shawn said. A second later a figure appeared at the window, a figure dressed all in black including a mask. "Uh oh."

Juliet's eyes widened, "What? What uh oh?"

Shawn dropped the binoculars and looked at Juliet, "It's him, it's the killer, he's in the house."

Juliet cursed. She grabbed her gun with one hand and the radio with the other, "Carlton, the killer is in the house, I repeat the killer is in the house."

"Understood," Lassiter replied. Juliet climbed out of the car and was making her way quickly across the road to the house when she realised Shawn was following her.

"What are you doing?" She hissed.

"I'm going with you!"

"I don't think so! Get back to the car right now," she ordered.

"We don't have time to argue."

"You're a civilian."

"Just try and stop me," he replied before moving past Juliet towards the house.

Juliet quickly caught up with Shawn and grasped his bicep, "You stay behind me okay?" He rolled his eyes. "_Okay_?" She repeated.

"Fine," he relented. She let go of his arm and pulled her gun up ahead of her. She arrived at the door and kicked it open. The light from the kitchen spilled out into the hallway, give the pair enough light to navigate down the hallway. A muffled sound from upstairs had Juliet sprinting up the stairs, Shawn close behind her.

Juliet burst through the first door, finding nothing but darkness, she backed out and went for the next door, finding a bathroom. The last door was at the very end of the corridor. Juliet turned back to Shawn and nodded at his silently, he nodded back. She turned back towards the door and moved forwards. She counted down from three in her head before kicking the door open. She stepped cautiously into the darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

Juliet burst through the first door, finding nothing but darkness, she backed out and went for the next door, finding a bathroom

Juliet burst through the first door, finding nothing but darkness. She backed out and went for the next door, finding a bathroom. The last door was at the very end of the corridor. Juliet turned back to Shawn and nodded at his silently, he nodded back. She turned back towards the door and moved forwards. She counted down from three in her head before kicking the door open. She stepped cautiously into the darkness.

As soon as she stepped into the room, gun in her hands ahead of her, large hands grabbed her outstretched arms and pushed them hard against the wall. She yelped as her arms and the wall connected and the gun from her hands, falling somewhere in the darkness. Juliet had no idea what was going on and it was all happening to fast for her to gain some control over the situation.

The same giant hands quickly grabbed her shoulders and yanked her forwards, sending her to the ground. She fell hard on her shoulder, and she cried out in pain.

Shawn stood frozen for a second as he watched Juliet go down. "Jules!" He shouted. He surged forwards without any idea of how he was going to stop the man standing over Juliet. "Hey!" He cried, reaching to grab the figure. The man turned just in time and dodged out of the way. The man snaked his arms around Shawn's waist and rugby tackled him to the ground. Air was pushed from Shawn's lungs as the man fell in top of him. In the darkness he struggled against the figure on top of him. The man held him down against the floor with one hand against his chest while another hand gripped his neck tightly. Shawn gasped and struggled harder as he lost the ability to breathe. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

"Stop!" A familiar voice shouted, though Shawn's mind was too fuzzy to try and work out who it was. The hand gripped his neck pulled away and Shawn sucked in as much air as he could, making him light headed.

The man lifted himself off Shawn and disappeared out the door.

Lassiter shifted in his seat as he tried to bring some feeling back to his posterior. He'd been sitting watching the house for quite a while now but it didn't matter how experienced you were at stake-outs, your ass still went numb. At least he hadn't had anything to drink all day, he reminded himself. A good cop knew not to drink on a stake out to avoid any embarrassing situations when you couldn't leave your post.

Sitting alone in his car on a fairly cold night watching a priest's house for any activity was not most people's idea of fun but it was Lassiter's job, and he was damn good at it. He wasn't going to take his eyes off the house for a second.

_Not that it wasn't completely and utterly _boring a tiny voice in his head added. It wouldn't be so bad if he could spend the stake out in the same car as his partner so they could partake in their usual game of who knows the police code better

Why Spencer had to come along still eluded Lassiter. Not only was he a civilian, he was a civilian who they hadn't seen in a year after being exposed as being a fake psychic after two years of pretending to hear the spirits. Yeah, the guy was mentally sound.

At least Lassiter had been redeemed. For two years Lassiter had tried to prove Spencer was a fake with no one listening to him. At least afterwards he could grin and say "I told you so". And Shawn wasn't the one they turned to after a hard case anymore. If someone was stuff they would turn to _him. _He was back at the top and enjoying every second of it.

Until this case.

He really did think that they would have been able to solve the case without Spencer. He would have got the art connection in time.

Suddenly the radio came to life and Juliet's voice came crackling through. "Carlton, the killer is in the house, I repeat the killer is in the house."

"Understood," Lassiter replied before jumping out of the car. He jogged across the alleyway behind Earns house and stopped at the back gate. His gun was already out of its holster as he took it off safety.

He hooked his arm over the top of the gate and unlocked it before barrelling though into the garden, his heart beating loudly from adrenaline.

It was too dark in the garden to see anything apart from a path leading up to the house and large black blobs which Lassiter guessed were bushes. As he started making his way up the path, a noise in the bushes stopped him. The rustling sound had Lassiter aiming his gun into the darkness, his finger on the trigger ready for anything.

_What if there were two killers? _Lassiter began to think. There was certainly nothing in the evidence they had to disprove that two people were involved. He made a cautious step towards the bush.

"Detective Carlton Lassiter, Santa Barbara police. Step out of there!" He ordered, his voice strong and unwavering. He received no reply and he took another step forward. "I said step out of there!" He repeated more forcefully.

More rustling came from the bush and Lassiter tightened his grip on the gun. A second later a figure appeared, silently stepping out of from the leaves. Lassiter let out the breath he had been holding and slowly looked down. The silent figure curled itself around Lassiter's legs and purred. Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Figures," he muttered.

He disentangled his legs from the tabby cat and continued on his mission towards the house. He reached the back door without any more disruption. He found the back door unlocked and made a mental note to teach this priest about home safety as soon as he had saved his life.

He could hear movement coming from above him and he manoeuvred through the dark room and into the hallway. The sounds of the scuffle grew louder as he ascended the stairs. From the end of the landing he could just about see movement and as he made his way towards the room he saw a figure dressed in black sitting on top of Spencer.

"Hey!" He barked. The figure stopped and turned to look at him. The figure headed towards him at speed.

It was too dark and it all happened too fast. The figure rammed into him like a raged bull. Lassiter found himself falling backwards onto his back. In the daze he felt the gun being pulled from his hands and a second later a fist hitting him in the face.

Lassiter listened to the deep mocking laugh of the figure before footsteps sounding the man's speedy exit. He groaned as he pulled himself up to his feet. He stepped to the wall and reached blinding for the light switch.

He squinted as bright light filled the room and after his eyes adjusted to the light he took in the room. His partner was lying on the floor beside the bed in some obvious pain whilst Spencer was lying at his feet, trying to suck in some ragged breaths. He stepped over Spencer and headed for Juliet. He got to his knees and placed a hand on her side.

"O'Hara?"

"I'm fine," she replied through gritted teeth. "My arm," she explained, rolling onto her back.

"I'm….fine…..too….by the way," Shawn added.

"What on earth is going on?" A fourth voice asked and Lassiter looked up to see Earns sitting up in bed, still half asleep. "Who are you people and what are you doing in my bedroom?"

Lassiter didn't know how to answer.

"Okay," Chief Vick began. "Let me get this straight. There were _three _of you watching the house. Not only did the killer get _into _the house but he took all three of you down before escaping."

"That about sums it up," Shawn replied, his voice muffled from the oxygen masked placed over his mouth.

After the killer had escaped Lassiter had called in for back up and paramedics. The police had been searching the area for nearly an hour now, hoping the killer couldn't have got that far. Juliet had been placed in the back of the ambulance, her arm in a sling. The paramedics didn't think anything was broken, but there could be a fracture or a dislocation that they wanted the hospital to check out. Juliet didn't seem to mind after they'd given her some pain medication.

They had wanted Shawn to get checked over too but he refused, accepting some oxygen and that was all.

Lassiter would have quite the black eye in the morning but otherwise fine. His ego was bruised more than anything else. "We weren't prepared for him to be trained in self defence," Lassiter argued. "It all happened so quickly."

"Soooooo quick," Juliet added before snickering.

"Dude, Jules on drugs is fun," Shawn grinned.

Lassiter ignored both of them and continued. "We stopped him from killing George Earns."

"Yes," Karen folded her arms across her chest. "That's something," she agreed, "But now this man is more dangerous than ever."

"How so?" Shawn asked.

"He knows we're on to him now," Karen answered. "We know his pattern. If he wants to continue killing he'll have to change that pattern, meaning we could be back to square one."

Lassiter took out his anger on a stone, kicking it down the road. "Great, just great."

"Look," The Chief continued. "There's nothing we can do this evening, Earns is in protective custody so we don't have to worry about the killer trying again. Get some sleep and we'll re-group in the morning. Except for you O'Hara, you get your arm checked out and then get some rest."

"Yes Mrs. Chief Ma'am," Juliet tried to reply seriously, but it still sent her into a fit of giggles.

Karen rolled her eyes before tuning to Shawn. Tonight was the first time she had seen the man since he had disappeared a year a go. She couldn't say she wasn't still angry at the man, though the feeling surprised her. He had mislead them all for so long, made them all look like idiots but at the same time there was a comfort to having him sitting in front of her. She had always liked that the man had kept her detectives on their toes, striving to be better detectives. He always did make things a little more exciting and as long as Shawn got the job done in the end. "Mr Spencer."

Shawn pulled the oxygen mask off his face and dropped it onto the stretcher by Juliet's feet. "Chief."

"It was you who worked out the killer's pattern and directed us to George Earns?"

Shawn confirmed the question with a nod

"Then I'll expect you at the precinct tomorrow Mr. Spencer," she directed at Shawn.

"Yes Chief," he answered with a barely visible smile.


	14. Chapter 14

Shawn made sure his jacket was zipped up right to the collar before entering his dad's house

Shawn made sure his jacket was zipped up right to the collar before entering his dad's house. The last thing he wanted was to be questioned about the bruises that had begun to form around his neck and he knew his father would still be up waiting for him.

Shawn wasn't surprised to find his father sitting on the couch, staring intently through prescription glasses at a half finished crossword in his hand, a pen hanging loosely in the other hand.

Henry's eyes flicked up and he peered over the top of his glasses at Shawn when he heard Shawn's entrance. "You're back," he noted.

"You didn't have to wait up for me, you know," Shawn said, moving to join Henry in the living room.

Henry shrugged, "I wanted to get this crossword finished." Shawn nodded, not saying a word, which was Henry's first clue that something had happened. If Shawn wasn't talking, it normally meant there was something he didn't want Henry to know. He looked up at his son and studied his face. He was definitely hiding something, he decided. "What happened?"

"Nothing, Dad," Shawn tried, thought he was too tired to put much effort into the lie

Henry frowned. He put the newspaper down beside him before pushing himself up onto his feet. "Don't tell me nothing happened Shawn. I know you're hiding something." Shawn stayed silent and it gave Henry time to draw his own conclusions "Was it the killer?" A flash of surprise in Shawn's eyes told Henry he was on the right track. "He was there, wasn't he? Did he kill the guy?" Henry asked, punctuating each question with a step towards Shawn.

"He tried. Okay?" Shawn finally relented, taking a much needed step back. "He tried to kill the priest, but we got there in time. We stopped him, but he got away."

"Wait a second, you took on this killer?"

"What? No, Dad!"

"Then what _exactly _happened Shawn?"

"Nothing! He broke into the house. We went to investigate and the guy went running," Shawn replied, manipulating the truth. He could see Henry was unconvinced. "Look, I'm tired. Can we pick this argument up in the morning?"

"Shawn-"

"Please," Shawn blurted out. "In the morning," he sighed.

"Fine," Henry replied with an equally weary sigh. He knew that he wasn't going to get anything out of Shawn and he was just as tired as his son appeared to be. The sleep would do them both some good and they could have a proper talk in the morning. He turned and picked up his newspaper. "I'll see you in the morning," he brushed past Shawn and trudged up the stairs.

Shawn didn't wait for Henry to shut himself in his bedroom before he followed. He used his last dredges of energy to climb the staircase. He stopped at the mirror in the hallway and winced at his appearance. The bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin and he was in desperate need of a shower and shave. He slowly reached up and unzipped his jacket, taking a long look at the purple mess around his neck. He wouldn't be able to hide the bruises from his father forever and once he knew where they came from there would be no telling how he would react.

He heard his father moving around in his bedroom as he tore his eyes away from his reflection and stepped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

Shawn's eyes snapped open, adrenaline already pumping through his body the minute he woke up. Something was wrong. He lay there for a second, holding his breath, waiting for some sign that he was just hearing things. A second crash from downstairs told him he wasn't. He yanked the covers off himself and flung himself out of bed.

He tried to calm his breathing and slow his racing heartbeat as he opened his bedroom door by an inch. It was now silent downstairs but Shawn knew what he had heard. He opened his door just wide enough for him to fit through, knowing the door creaked if you opened it too wide and he didn't want to make any sound.

He tiptoed down the landing and hovered at the top of the stairs, waiting for another tell tale sound. This was crazy, he told himself. Not only was it highly unlikely that someone was in the house considering his father's standards of home security. But even if there was someone downstairs, was he really going to confront them on his own, in nothing but a t-shirt and Spongebob Squarepants boxers?

What sounded like footsteps in the kitchen pulled Shawn out of his thoughts. He descended the stairs one at a time, making sure to miss all the creaky steps that would give away his presence.

This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy his mind kept repeating as he stepped cautiously into the living room. He hadn't even thought about his father, or his father's gun. He kept on moving through the living room into the kitchen. It was empty, no sound apart from the occasional drip from the leaky tap Henry hadn't gotten around to fixing.

He relaxed slightly. It was probably all in his head, he was tired and his mind was still on the serial killer case. He spun around, his eyes widening at the sight of a figure in black standing inches from him. His mouth opened to cry out when a large hand clamped down on his mouth. The other hand gripped Shawn's shoulder painfully and twisted him around and pulled him tight against he man's chest. Shawn struggled but the man was too strong. The free hand snaked around Shawn's neck, pushing into the bruises that were already there and made new ones as he cut off Shawn's air supply.

A small part of Shawn's brain was realising the man had him in a choke hold, the same kind of manoeuvre they taught in the military to take down a combatant while the rest of his brain screamed for oxygen.

Soon his struggling stopped and the man chuckled under his breath as Shawn's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell unconscious into the arms of a killer.

The first thing Shawn felt was water thrown at his face. His eyes flung open and his head snapped up. He gasped in shock from the water that was dripping down his face and trickling down his back.

The second thing Shawn felt was the coarse ropes around his wrists and ankles, tying down onto the kitchen chair. He made a futile attempt at escape but the bindings were too tight, almost cutting off his circulation.

Once the fog had cleared from his mind he looked up into the eyes on the killer as he loomed over Shawn.

"Shawn Spencer."

Shawn tilted his head to one side and studied the man in front of him. He was fairly tall and slim but Shawn could see that he was all muscle. His left hand, resting in his hip had two long pink scars running from the knuckles up to the wrist. Shawn's eyes travelled up the man's broad chest and up to his face, now un-obscured by any mask. His eyes were a dark brown that looked almost black in the dim light. His head was shaved, emphasising the rectangular shape of his head. His lip quirked in amusement at Shawn.

"I'm sorry," Shawn said after a second, "I don't think we've been formally introduced."

"Yeah," the man nodded. He reached for a second chair and pulled it towards him. He sat down opposite Shawn. "Sorry about that. My plan called for a certain amount of anonymity."

"Understandable, you couldn't be found before you finishing killing."

"See? I knew you would understand."

"I really don't." The man didn't reply. A part of Shawn wanted to know what was going on inside the man's head while the rest of him wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Name?" Shawn asked.

The man held out a hand, "Damien, Damien Knight."

Shawn raised an eyebrow at the hand held out for him to shake and then at his hands tied tightly to the chair. Damien realised and took his hand back.

"I'm glad you heard me down here. I thought for a second I was going to have to come up to you," Damien remarked.

Shawn ignored it and started on his own line of questioning. "We going to talk about why you've tied me up any time soon?" This is was possibly the oddest situation he had ever found himself in. Damien didn't seem angry or upset, he wasn't being violent. He was just sitting opposite Shawn, grinning.

"It's simple really," Damien began with a shrug.

"It is?"

"Sure," Damien nodded, "You know, everything was going to plan. Albrecht went off without a hitch, same with Botticelli, Caillebotte and Degas. I was on the biggest high of my life."

"And then?"

"And then you came to town."

"Sorry about that."

Damien's smile disappeared instantly, "You will be." Shawn shivered. "You see, I had huge plans and it was all so perfect and you ruined them."

"You were killing people," Shawn replied.

Damien made a fist and slammed it down on the kitchen table, "It was art!"

Shawn flinched. "It was murder," he said. "You're deluded if you think it was anything else."

Damien nodded, "Maybe…but now I have to change my plans."

"Skip _E_ and go for _F_?"

Damien rose to his feet, "More like skip_ E_ and go for _S._"

Shawn's eyes widened as a shiver went down his spine. "My dad's upstairs, you try anything and I'll scream out a lung."

Damien look startled for a second, he wasn't expecting someone else to be in the house. The look quickly vanished from his face. He shook his head slowly. "I don't think you will."

Shawn glared at Damien. He opened his mouth ready to shout when a gloved hand slammed down over his mouth. Shawn struggled as a handkerchief was pushed into his mouth and wrapped around his head, gagging him. Shawn quickly re-evaluated his idea of the man standing over him. He wasn't just angry, he was unhinged and Shawn realised what it would mean for him if Damien got his way. All he needed was his father to wake up and save him.

Damien turned away from him and pulled out a black case. He unzipped it and pulled out a vial of liquid and a needle. He turned back around and Shawn's eyes widened even further when he saw it. He knew what the other victims had been poisoned with, the puffer fish venom which killed so quickly and painfully.

"I bet you're wondering what this is," Damien spoke as he pushed the needle into the vial and drew out some of the liquid. He pulled the needle out and tapped the needle a couple of times before pushing out the air bubbles. "It's not Tetrodotoxin," he continued.

"This? This is something entirely different. It had to be special for the person who discovered my pattern, the only person. My equal." Shawn wanted to be sick. He was in no way equal to the man planning on injecting some poison into him. "This is Heroin," he brought the needle to his face and sniffed it, sighing in pleasure. "I can almost taste it," Damien said before jabbing the needle into Shawn's arm, not giving him time to react.


	15. Chapter 15

As soon as the drug was pushed into his body Shawn could feel the effects

Damien was on the biggest high of his life. Better than any drug he had put into his system in the last three years. Seeing his equal tied up to a chair made his heart beat fast. The adrenaline running through his body made him feel like he was back in Afghanistan, dodging bullets and RPG's. He could almost hear the gunfire; taste the blood in his mouth. He licked his lips.

Finally they would all see him for the genius he was. His CO who got him discharged from the army, his therapist, his ex-wife who took his child away from him. None of them understood him.

He remembered how she had laughed when he told her he was going to be an artist. That mocking laugh had entered his brain and wouldn't leave. It was all he could hear.

He'd worked so hard for so long. Had given so much, blood, sweat and tears for his country. He had felt so much pain, and got nothing in return. He wanted to show he was good enough, the people that passed him over for promotions, the people looked down at him, thought he was nothing but an angry broken grunt. This was his chance to take something back for himself. Achieve the glory he had so long deserved.

Now they would see, all of them. Once his wife saw, she'd come back, and they'd be a big happy family. Nothing would ever tear them apart.

"All artists need something to be remembered by," he said out loud. "How can you forget The Mona Lisa or Michelangelo's David?" Damien smiled. Soon he was going to be standing next to the greatest artists of all time, his work admired by millions.

He reached for Shawn and ran his fingers through his hair gently. "You're gonna be my masterpiece Shawn, the one that makes me famous," he said softly. "Then she'll see, they'll all see"

As soon as the drug was pushed into his body, Shawn could feel the effects. The drug burned as it entered his system. Shawn's heart was beating fast. He knew the effects of a drug like Heroin.

"Now that was quite a big dose I just gave you," Damien continued. "I do hope you enjoy it." He bent down until his eyes met Shawn's unfocused eyes. "Can you feel it? Burning through your blood stream? Reaching to every nerve ending?" He whispered. "I hope you can."

He stretched back up until he was standing over Shawn. "This is going to be a lot of fun for me. Not for you, but definitely for me. I do wonder how long you will last. It could be anything from minutes to hours before I watch you breathe your last breath."

"The others?" Damien began. "They were just copies, nothing else." He practically spat out the words, as if the people he had killed were just practice, and now he'd finally moved onto the final project. "But you, you are going to be unique, an invention of my own mind….._perfection,_" Damien practically purred the last word.

"But it's not enough…..I don't want you to die quickly. I want to watch you suffer," he added, holding out a second vial of Heroin.

Shawn's mouth went dry and the need to vomit increased. His mind began to cloud over as the opioid entered his brain. He could see Damien moving in front of his but it was all happening in slow motion. Shawn began to sweat.

"Nice bruises by the way," Damien spoke, running a finger across Shawn's neck.

His whole body tensed up painfully and he started breathing heavily. Damien lifted Shawn's chin up with one finger. "How does it feel Shawn? Does it hurt?" Shawn closed his eyes. "Look at me Shawn."

_Look at me Shawn__._

Shawn opened his eyes and looked up; his head feeling like it weighed a ton. It wasn't Damien standing on front of him any more it was Gus. Gus was leaning over him, his eyes red with anger.

_You brought this on yourself__. _Gus spat at him.

_Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into this time__. _His father's voice told him from behind.

_You should have never come back Spencer__. _Lassiter was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. _We don't want you here, can't you see that Spencer? _

_Help me_, Shawn wanted to scream but the gag stopped him. The figures disappeared and Damien returned. Shawn flinched as Damien came near him. "What are you seeing?" Damien asked. "Are you hallucinating?"

_You lied to me Shawn__. _

Juliet's voice whispered in his ear. She walked around until he was facing Shawn. Shawn was watching with wide eyes as she placed a hand on Damien's shoulder. He turned to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. She leant forward and placed a kiss at the corner of his lips.

_No! _Shawn wanted to shout. _Stay away from her! _Shawn struggled, trying to lurch forward and get her away from this monster.

_You lied to me for two whole years__. _Juliet said before her figure faded away.

Lassiter reappeared against the wall, laughing, taunting him.

_You're a mistake….a joke__._

_Go home Spencer, we don't need you here__._

_You're really messed up this time. _

_We don't want you__._

_Go home._

_Go home__._

His father's voice from behind him grew louder, repeating the four words that had stung so much the fist time he had said them.

_I told you so…..I told you so……..I told you so__._

He barely felt the second jab in his other arm or the more drugs that began passing through his system, entering his blood. Tears began to fall among the beads of sweat. It was becoming harder and harder for him to get air to his lungs and through the haze in his mind he wondered if this was it. This was how he was going to die. He'd barely smoked pot as a teenager and here he was years later dying from a drug overdose.

It was all too much, the figures taunting him, the pain running through his body. His heart pounding through his chest and his lungs slowly giving up. His head felt like it was about to explode.

It was too late for help Shawn realized as his eyes began to droop. The vision of his father attacking Damien, another hallucination, just as his eyes lid shut.

Henry checked the bullets in his revolver quickly before shutting the chamber. His heart was beating too fast. He'd woken up five minutes ago, needing the toilet. He hadn't made it past his son's bedroom, realizing as he looked into the open door that his son was missing. As he wondered where his son was he heard a voice talking downstairs, a voice he'd never heard before. Someone was in his house. He had rushed back to his room and grabbed his gun before making his way quietly down the stairs.

His eyes widened at the sight of a man dressed all in black standing over Shawn who was tied to a chair. Shawn didn't look good, his eyes were unfocused and he was shivering and sweating. He rushed forwards and pointed his gun at the man.

"Hey!" He shouted as he surged forward. He barreled into the man like a steam train pushing him forwards, away from Shawn. The momentum pushed the man into the fridge, too fast for him to stop it from happening. "Step away from my son!" He shouted.

The man was dazed for a second, but still managed to launch a defense. Henry barely had time to dodge before a fist came flying at his face. Henry's head snapped back painfully as the fist connected. He could taste blood in his mouth from where he'd bit his tongue. A hand gripped his wrist and twisted it until Henry cried out from the pain and the gun dropped from his hand. A second fist connected before Henry had time to recover and he struggled hard to keep himself from upright. He wasn't going to let this man win. He was older but he was a trained police officer, who knew how far he would go for his son. The anger pulsing through his body was giving him the extra strength he needed to stop this man.

With all his strength he gripped the man's shoulders tightly and threw him to the ground. Henry was on top of him a second later. The man had hit his head against the linoleum floor and it gave Henry time to get couple of hits in. He grasped the man's shoulders again, lifted his head and slammed him back down. His head fell limply to the side.

He was unconscious but Henry knew he wouldn't stay that way for long. He sat back on his haunches for a second to get his breath back before he was scrabbling across the floor and grabbing the gun from where he had dropped it. He turned and aimed it at the unconscious man. He turned his head to the side and spat out the blood from his mouth.

With the gun pointed firmly at the man, Henry had the chance to look up at his son. Shawn's eyes were closed and his head had dropped forward. Henry couldn't see if he was breathing or not. His eyes then fell on the used needles sitting on the kitchen table

Henry's angry increased tenfold. He grabbed a handful of the man's shirt. "What did you give him?" Henry shouted but the man barely moved. "What did you give him?" Henry repeated. He let go of the man in disgust and began the search for answers. Henry pulled himself to his feet, unable to look at the unconscious man on the floor. He moved towards the table and found two empty vials sitting next to the needles. He reached for one, turning the vial around in his hand until he label was facing up.

The word Heroin in bold black letters made Henry's stomach drop.

Before he went for Shawn, Henry ran towards the phone. He picked it up and dialed 911.

"I need an ambulance," he began to say, heading back towards his son. "My son, has had a drug overdose, heroin, get the police here too." He told them the address before hanging up the phone and dropping it.

He pulled a kitchen knife from a drawer and used it to cut the ropes that were holding Shawn to the chair. He untied the gag and dropped the damp handkerchief to the floor. Shawn fell forward. Henry caught him before he could fall and carried him to the couch, laying him down.

He cupped Shawn's head in his hands. "Shawn?" He spoke. Shawn's chest was barely rising and Henry could barely feel a pulse underneath his fingertips. "Hold on okay?" He smoothed Shawn's hair back, like he used to do Shawn when he was ill in bed as a child. The soothing motion of his father brushing his hair back had always sent him to sleep. "You're gonna be fine Shawn, just hold on," he kept saying over and over again until he could hear the sirens outside.


	16. Chapter 16

I'm so so sorry for the long wait - i've been on holiday, The rest of the story should be posted fairly quickly from now on

* * *

The clock ticked regularly on the wall behind Henry. He closed his eyes, shutting out the sights of the waiting room wishing he could shut out the sounds too. The shuffling and squeaking of rubber shoes walking past him, the constant ringing of telephones and nurses chattering, the PA system telling various doctors they are needed in other parts of the hospital. Henry hated it all. It was worse than the smell or the place, though that was a close second. The smell would get into his clothes and his skin and he'd smell it for days, reliving the day he spent watching Shawn get stitched up after falling off his bike or the night he spent watching over his wife after a serious bought of influenza.

It felt good to close his eyes, no matter how much it stung. He'd been sitting in the same chair for hours now and he'd fought to stay awake just in case, sitting up straight any time a doctor came towards him and then slouching back into his chair when the doctor kept on walking.

He didn't know what was taking so long. Did they just prolong the talk to relatives just to mess with their heads? So they'll be glad there are finally being told something that they don't care whether it's good or bad news. The doctor better bring him good news. Outliving his son was an idea Henry didn't want to consider. Neither was phoning his ex-wife and telling her their son was currently in the hospital from a massive heroin overdose, he'd put that one off until he had some news.

He heard footsteps come towards him and stop and he opened his eyes hopefully. He was surprised to find Detective O'Hara standing in front of him, her arm in a sling.

"I was getting my arm sorted out when Carlton phoned me," she explained softly, obviously shaken up by the phone call. "Do you mind if I?" She nodded to the empty seat next to Henry. All the seats in the waiting room her empty so Henry didn't know why she was asking his permission to sit down but he nodded silently anyway. "Do you know any-"

"No," Henry managed to get out, his voice gruff from sitting silently for so long. "Nothing."

Juliet nodded, readjusting the sling to make it more comfortable. "I'm sorry," she blurted out.

Henry turned and looked at her. "For what?"

"I just…I feel like this is all my fault," she bowed her head unable to look Shawn's father in the eyes. "I'm the one who thought to bring him back here, got him involved in this case not thinking about the giant risks involved. _I _dragged him to the stakeout, nearly got him killed and then that psycho followed Shawn home."

"That does sound like it's your fault," Henry agreed and Juliet's head snapped up in surprise. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. "It's just not true," Henry added a second later. "You might think that shaped everything leading to this, Shawn coming back, Shawn going on that stake out. Truth is, Shawn doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. You couldn't have forced him to do anything even if you tried."

Juliet blinked away the wetness in her eyes and swallowed hard. "What are you saying?"

"I was a cop for a long time Detective. I saw so many people blaming themselves for senseless crimes, blaming the paramedics for not getting there in time, blaming doctors for not doing their jobs properly, blaming the cops for the same thing. Throwing blame at yourself isn't healthy, and it's certainly not going to make you fell better," Henry sighed. "I'm saying there's only one person at fault in all this and his name is Damien Knight" Henry added.

Juliet shook her head in disbelief. "How can you be so calm right now? You're comforting me when you're son is-" Juliet didn't know how to finish the sentence. Was Shawn dying? Was he in some trauma room flat lining from the overdose as they spoke?

"I'm tired," Henry admitted.

"Maybe you should get some sleep," Juliet suggested.

Henry shook his head slowly. "No," he answered firmly, "not until I know."

Juliet nodded, she could understand that. Suddenly quick footsteps, the sound of someone running caught her attention. She looked up and down the corridor at the sight of Gus making his way towards them as quickly as possible.

She almost smiled at the sight of him in a pair of jeans and a rumpled t-shirt. She'd only ever seen him wearing smart clothes and Juliet had wondered more than once if his wardrobe consisted anything other than shirts and designer ties. He must have thrown on whatever was nearest after Lassiter had phoned him, Juliet assumed.

Gus stopped in front of the pair and began gasping for breath. "Juliet, Mr Spencer," he breathed. "What's going on? Have the doctors said anything yet? What about-"

"Gus," Henry said softly.

"That psycho?" Gus continued to babble. "He needs to be locked up for good. God this is all my fault. I'm the one who made you go and bring him back and now all this has happened. He should have just stayed in Las Vegas where he was safe."

"Gus!" Henry barked. "Sit down and shut up," he ordered firmly.

Gus's mouth slammed shut and without thinking he did as he was told, taking the spare seat on the other side of Henry.

The trio sat in silence for over an hour, the only sounds coming from Juliet as she flicked through three month old magazine one handed and the clicking sound as Gus emailed work from his blackberry, telling them he wouldn't be showing up for work that morning. At 6 am Juliet decided it was time for a caffeine fix.

"I'm going to go down to the cafeteria," Juliet spoke up. "The coffee's slightly better than from the machines."

"I'll go with you," Gus decided. "Need to stretch my legs, plus you'll need a couple of extra hands." He pushed himself up and out of the chair and yawned loudly. He helped Juliet to her feet and Henry watched the pair walk off, knowing they'd bring him back some coffee.

It was only five minutes after the pair had disappeared that a man in turquoise scrubs walked towards Henry. "Mr Spencer?" He called and Henry immediately sat up straight.

"Yes, that's me," he replied. He studied the doctor's face for any clues but the man's face was emotionless.

"I'm Doctor Weathers," he held out his hand. "I've been treating your son." Henry took the hand and shook it briefly.

"How is he doc?" Henry croaked out.

"He's hanging in there," Doctor Weathers gave a small grin. "The massive dose of heroin he was given has put him in a serious condition though. We've put him on immediate IV support and given him laxatives to try and flush it out of his system as fast as possible. We've also given him a dose of naloxone; it's a drug which reverses the effects of the opioids in Shawn's body. We'll be giving him regular doses of naloxone to reverse the effects completely. Right now his breathing is a major concern so we've got him on a respirator, but the drugs we're giving him should improve his breathing and we should be able to take him off the respirator in the next couple of hours."

Henry let out the breath he had been holding and felt the pit in his stomach disappear "What about withdrawal, from the heroine?" Henry asked.

"He shouldn't have any further complications, the body needs to be used to a drug to go into withdrawal," the doctor reassured.

"Good, that's good," Henry nodded.

"We're going to be keeping an eye over Shawn for the next twenty four hours in the ICU and then hopefully he'll be able to go home in about a week, depending Shawn's neurological state, the state of his lungs and his kidneys. He'll also have an appointment with a hospital psychologist."

Henry looked up and frowned at the doctor, "Shawn didn't do this to himself."

"We know," the doctor reassured, "It's just policy, after such a traumatic event."

Henry nodded, he remembered all the appointments he had with psychologists after he saw shootings, after he pulled the trigger himself. He told the shrink what they wanted to hear and then dealt with it in his own way. He knew Shawn would be doing the same thing.

"Can I go sit with him?" He could see the doctor was about to tell him no. "Please, just for a little while."

The doctor relented. "Okay, just for a while, Shawn needs all the rest he can get."

Henry jumped up from his seat, surprised how much energy he had. "Which room doc?"

"Down the hall, room three twenty."

"Thanks."

The doctor nodded, "You're welcome."

"Not just about that, I mean, thanks for helping my son," Henry said before turning and walking down the hallway, his eyes skimming the door numbers until he reached 320. He stopped outside the door and breathed for a second before gripped the door handle and pushing his way into the room.

The small room was clinical and white except for pale blue blinds in the window. The only sounds in the room coming from the ventilator and the heart monitor attached to his son. Henry walked around the bed and sat down in the empty seat. It was more uncomfortable than the one out in the waiting room but right at that moment he didn't care.

Shawn was too still and too pale and that worried Henry more than the IV in his arm and the tube down his throat. Shawn had never been one to admit when he was feeling unwell but Henry had always been able to gage his son's health by how his energy levels. He lifted his hand and placed it on Shawn's wrist, feeling the thump of Shawn's heartbeat under his fingertips.

Seeing a man standing over his son, tied to a chair, was one of the worst experiences of his life. Realising the man had injected a massive dose of heroine into his son came a close second. His mind had been plagued with what if's ever since he arrived at the hospital. What if he'd woken earlier? What if Shawn had never returned? At least knew the answer to the last one. George Earns would be dead if it wasn't for his son and Damien Knight would still be free to kill again.

He cleared his throat, "Shawn, I don't know whether you can hear me or not." He paused for a second, hoping the slight twitch in Shawn's finger meant he was listening. "You're going to be okay, I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you."

Shawn didn't move and Henry sighed loudly. "You just rest okay? Get better."


	17. Chapter 17

Shawn hated taxis. He hated having to rely on them all the time, especially the past week when his dad had hidden the keys to the truck and Gus was too busy with work to return his calls. Shawn handed the cab driver a bill and got out of the car. The cab had dropped him off right in front of the Santa Barbara Police station, and Shawn couldn't help but let his eyes sweep over the front of the building for a moment. He'd barely given a second glance at the building two weeks ago at his unexpected arrival. It still looked exactly the same as it always had, but it didn't feel the same. He'd spent so much time at the station that it had like a third home to him, the second being the psych office. It hadn't felt weird to jog up the steps, greet the police officer at the front desk, stop Buzz in the hallway to ask after his wife, then drop down into the spare seat by Juliet's desk to sneak a look at the latest case file.

Now he felt like a stranger, and it would stay that way once he returned to Las Vegas. He sighed and slowly made his way up the stairs and into the building.

He quickly made his way to the chief's office and knocked on the open door. A year ago he would have walked straight in without an invitation, just another thing that had changed over time.

Karen looked up from the papers in front of her and eyed the man standing in the doorway. "Come in Mr. Spencer," she said. Shawn obeyed, stepping into the room with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "No lasting effects," he added as he dropped into the empty chair and grasped the chair arms. "Apart from my dad preaching non-stop about my stupidity of taking on a serial killer on my own."

"It was stupid," Karen agreed.

"Eh," Shawn gave another half shrug. "Barely makes the top five of stupid things I've done."

Karen really didn't want to know. "You know why I asked you here?" She quickly moved the conversation along.

"I wouldn't have a clue."

Karen nodded. She silently pulled open her top draw and pulled out a single white envelope. She put it down on the desk in front of her and pushed it towards Shawn with one polished finger. "Your payment," she said. "More than enough to compensate you for the work you did to get Damien Knight behind bars."

Shawn picked up the envelope, folded it and stuffed it into his back pocket without opening it. "Is that everything?"

"No," Karen replied. "I never got to say what was on my mind a year ago. I was too busy trying to keep my job, trying to put the station's reputation back together. Your lies and tricks caused more damage than you could ever realise and we were all paying the price for it while you disappeared. Convicted murders behind bars were awarded appeals questioning the validity of your testimonies. We were issued with various lawsuits from victims and families. The Mayor demanded to know why I ever hired you in the first place!"

"I know and I'm so-"

"I'm still talking," Karen cut him off, rising to her feet. "Yes, you lied to us all and you ran away from any and all consequences and we all have a good reason to be angry at you," she paused for a second and took a deep breath before continuing, "but maybe you should think whether running away is a better option than facing up to what you've done, and that despite the lies and pretense, what you did was some of the most impressive detective work I've ever seen" Shawn wasn't expecting that. "Do you really want to throw something away that you love and that you're good at because you'd rather run away than face up to the mistakes you might have made?"

"Can I go now?" Shawn asked.

Karen nodded. She watched as Shawn pushed himself up to his feet and made his way to the door. "Shawn," she called and he turned to face her, an eyebrow raised as the unusual use of his first name. "You have a choice, stay and redeem yourself, prove to everyone you can still do this as a civilian consultant, or go and prove to people that you don't care about the next victims that need your help. Don't make the wrong one," she said before sitting back down in her chair and getting back to work.

Shawn watched her for a second, taking in everything she said before turning and leaving.

His mind was so occupied by Karen's words he didn't notice Juliet walking towards him, equally oblivious. Shawn jerked back to reality as they crashed into each other, sending the pile of files in Juliet's arms to the floor, spreading paper everywhere.

"Oh god I'm sorry," Juliet quickly apologised but seeing who it was that she collided with. "Shawn?"

"Jules."

"How are you feeling?" She'd spent a little time at his bedside while he was in the hospital, but it was only to take his statement. She told herself he was too tired for visitors but she knew it was just an excuse.

"Okay, no lasting damage," Shawn repeated. It wasn't even the second time he'd been asked that since getting out of the hospital.

"Good," she nodded.

Shawn looked down at the litter of paper around them, noticing quickly what they all were "This is from the case?" He asked.

She nodded, bending down to start gathering up the mess of paper. "I was just filing it away."

Shawn bent down and picked up a stray piece of paper that had landed on his shoes. He turned it over and stared at the crime scene photo in his hands. It wasn't of one of the four murder victims. This one was clearly the kitchen in his dad's house; the chair he had been tied to sitting in the middle of the photo. He didn't remember much from that night. It was all a blur, hallucinations mixing with reality.

The photo was suddenly snatched from his hands. "You shouldn't have to see that," Juliet explained, stuffing the photo into the pile with others.

He wanted to tell Juliet to stop treating him like he would fall apart if he saw the photos, but he kept his mouth shut.

"You still planning on leaving?" She asked.

"Tonight," Shawn replied, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

Juliet nodded. "Well, don't be so much of a stranger this time okay?" Juliet brushed past Shawn and started towards the stairs down to the file room.

"Jules?" She stopped and turned to face him. He stepped towards her and placed a hand on her forearm. "I really am sorry you know."

She gave him a smile, "Me too."

"I want us to be friends again or at least work towards getting back to where we were."

Juliet nodded. "I guess only time will tell," she leaned forward and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Good bye Shawn," she said before tuning and descending down the steps and out of site.

Shawn sighed, he scratched the back of his neck and turned. It was time to leave.

"Oh Spencer?" Shawn looked up and saw Lassiter making his way towards him. "I can't say I'll be upset to see you leave," he began as he stopped in front of Shawn. "But," he started. "You…you did a good job," he forced himself to say.

Shawn grinned, "Why Lassie, did you just complement me?"

Lassiter slammed a hand down on Shawn's shoulder and leaned forward. "You tell anyone and I'll make you regret you ever learned to talk," he whispered into Shawn's ear.

"My lips are sealed."

"Good," Lassiter leaned back, "Now get the hell out of here."

Shawn grinned again. "Ciao," he said before making his way towards the exit.

He stepped out into the Santa Barbara sun and jogged down the steps towards the car park. He stopped and raised an eyebrow at the sight of a familiar car sitting parked in front of him.

"How'd you know I was here?" He asked.

Gus shrugged. "Your dad told me. Get in, I want to show you something."


	18. Chapter 18

Gus pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. Shawn had figured out pretty quickly where Gus was taking him, but he didn't have the energy to argue with his best friend.

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked.

"You'll see," Gus replied cryptically, climbing out of the car and making his way across the lot. Shawn sighed and climbed out after Gus, slamming the door behind him and hearing the beep as Gus locked the car.

"Come on Gus," Shawn quickly caught up to his friend, "What are we doing here?"

Gus said nothing as the pair rounded the building and stopped outside the front. Gus pulled out a pair of keys and was in the process of unlocking the building.

"I don't understand. You kept the office?" Shawn asked as he stared at the logo pasted across the front window. It was a little scratched and there a few cobwebs in the window but other than that it was unchanged.

"Of course I kept the office," Gus replied before disappearing through the door. Shawn stared at the front window for a second before following Gus inside. It wasn't that much different on the inside either apart from the fact that it looked like it hadn't been used since Shawn had left. It was a little tidier and a few items that had once littered desk had been put away. The plants on the windowsill had died and there was a thin layer of dust over everything.

"The lease was going to run out two months after I left."

"I know," Gus replied, wiping off the dust from his chair and sitting down.

"And you renewed it, even though you had no idea where I was or if I was ever going to come back." Gus nodded. "Why?"

"I kept hoping," Gus began, leaning back into his chair. "You know I might have needed a little persuasion at the beginning, starting this place, taking cases, but I committed myself to this place Shawn. This place, you…" Gus looked up at Shawn. "You push me out of my comfort zone, convince me to take risks, and I'm better for it. Without you around, I'm just a suit with a healthy credit rating. Giving this place up would be like admitting you were never coming back."

"I'm sorry Gus."

"How many times are you going to apologise?" Gus asked.

"As many times as it takes," Shawn replied. His eyes fell on his old desk and his trusty squeezy frog. "Do you think if I hadn't been found out we'd still be doing this?"

"Yeah," Gus nodded, "I do."

"Why did you bring me here Gus?"

"To show you what we can still have."

Shawn shook his head, "We can't have this."

Gus rose from his seat with a frown, "Why not?"

"Because this is a psychic detective agency, I'm not a psychic."

"So?"

"So?" Shawn repeated incredulously. "So it means no client would ever trust us! It means no one is ever going to believe a word I say."

"I never said it would be easy Shawn."

"Well I only do easy, hasn't anyone told you?" Shawn snapped. He spun around and quickly made his way back outside.

Gus followed him, catching up to him out by the tracks, "Shawn."

Shawn stopped and turned to look at his friend. "I know what you're trying to do Gus but it won't work. I'm getting on that plane tonight." Gus sighed in defeat, he knew how stubborn his friend could be and if he said he was going, there was nothing that would stop him from going.

"Do one thing for me?" Gus asked.

"Anything."

"Don't you dare be a stranger. I want regular phone calls. I want regular visits. We can alternate if we have to, emails too."

Shawn laughed as Gus began laying down the rules. "This is sounding like a shared custody agreement. Who gets me for the holidays?"

"Shawn," Gus warned.

"Okay, okay," Shawn surrendered. "You've got a deal." He held out his hand and Gus's frown disappeared. He took Shawn's hand and shook it with a smile on his face.

Shawn re-arranged the strap on his shoulder until it was in a more comfortable position. He didn't know how it happened, but he seemed to be leaving with more than he brought and now his bag weighed a ton. He stepped into the check in line behind an overweight woman and an elderly man hacking up a lung.

He had always loved airports, ever since he was young. The large open spaces filled with so many different people; kids chasing after parents or vice versa, older couples resting their feet in the waiting area, sharing toffees, men in smart suits marching through the airport like they were being chased and woman with red faces, struggling underneath the weight of their luggage. It didn't matter who it was, Shawn loved watching them, working out who they were from a glance in their direction.

He took another step towards the counter as the old man hobbled off towards the boarding gate. Not that he was paying attention. Any other time and his eyes would be taking in absolutely everything and committing it to memory with ease but his mind was too occupied with other thoughts, Juliet, Gus….Damien Knight.

"Sir?" A voice called.

Shawn snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the perky blonde behind the check in counter. "Sorry," he apologised as he stepped towards the counter and completed his check in.

"Have a nice flight," she told him before he turned and began to make his way further into the airport.

"Shawn." Another voice called but Shawn didn't hear it over the crowds in the airport. "Shawn!" The voice called again louder. Shawn frowned but kept moving.

"Shawn!" He heard as a hand slammed down on his shoulder and spun him round. Suddenly he was face to face with his dad. "Didn't you hear me call?"

"Dad, what are you doing here?" He asked, gripping his boarding pass tighter in his hand.

"Were you planning on leaving without a goodbye….again?"

Shawn groaned, "Please don't tell you me drove all the way to the airport to berate me?"

"I didn't come all the way here to berate you, Shawn."

"Then why are you here? Cos I've got a plane to catch."

Henry sucked in a deep breath. "I came to ask you to stay," he said, letting out the air in a sigh.

"What?"

"Stay," Henry repeated.

Shawn laughed "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Why the hell would it be a joke Shawn? You think I have nothing better to do than think up jokes to play on you?"

"Then please explain why the hell you think _now _is the best time to ask me to stay."

"Shawn-"

"No," Shawn cut him off. "_You _are the one that asked me to leave in the first place!" He said incredulously.

"I _asked _you to take a long holiday, not _emigrate_, and you know that. How many times do we have to go through this?"

"Whatever dad, it's too late."

"No it's not."

"Dad-"

It was Henry's turn to cut Shawn off, "Whatever you might think, and whatever screwed perception you might have of what happened a year ago, that doesn't change the fact that you're my son."

"Well give the man a detective's badge!" Shawn replied sarcastically.

"Santa Barbara is your home, no matter how much you try to deny it. Every time you've gone away, you always return."

"Not this time."

"Yes," Henry replied with a nod of his head. "Look," he began. "I know I've never been the most supportive father," Henry ignored Shawn's snort. "And you might never be the cop I dreamed you would be…..but you are the best detective they have, badge or no badge. Don't give that up because you're pissed at me." _Please _Henry silently added.

Shawn raised an eyebrow, "I know what this is."

Henry rolled his eyes, "And what is this Shawn?"

"You just want me around so you can have a hold over me, keep an eye on me. Is that to-do list on the notice board in the kitchen meant for me? You certainly can't fix the tiles on the roof or re-paint the window panes with your bad back."

"This is not about my damn back or me needing some control over you!"

"Then why now dad? Why come practically _begging _me to stay _minutes _before I leave?"

_Because you're my son, Because the dinners and the chess games and bumping into each other at tanning salons and race tracks, helping with your cases make me feel less like an old retired cop and more like a father. Life without you around is boring. _

Henry said nothing, unable to put his feelings into words.

Shawn nodded. "Goodbye Dad." Shawn turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.


	19. Chapter 19

Well here it is! the very last chapter!! thanks for all the nice reviews :) I'm glad you enjoyed it.

* * *

Gus climbed out of his car, his eyes squinted to block out the blinding sun. He walked to the trunk and pulled out a pack of flat packed boxes. It was two weeks after Shawn had left for good and Gus knew it was time to pack the office up. There was no point in leaving it like it was only for the dust to pile up. He would leave it empty until the lease ran out in a couple of months.

He tucked the cardboard under his arm and slammed the trunk closed. He locked the car and made his way to the office. He stopped at the front door and frowned. The door was ajar and he knew he had locked it last time he'd been there. He pushed the thoughts of thieves coming for the plasma TV out of his mind and opened the door. The reception room was empty and he cautiously moved forwards into the main office.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What the?" He said in shock.

Shawn stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Gus. "Finally, I've been on my own in here so long I was this close to talking to a volleyball with a smiley face. on it"

"Seriously? A Tom Hanks reference? You're getting rusty man," Gus answered automatically. "You going to tell me what the hell you're doing here?" He asked.

Shawn waved the pink feather duster in Gus' direction, "Coating my lungs in dust apparently."

"Shawn," Gus warned.

"I thought the place needed a spring cleaning."

"And you thought now, two weeks after you _left _was the best time to do it?"

"Can't put these things off Gus," Shawn replied, swiping the duster over his desk and coughing loudly as the dust flew up into the air. "There's some papers on your desk" Shawn added.

Gus raised an eyebrow. He placed the flat boxes in the doorway and walked to his desk, finding the papers easily. "What's this?"

"Application for a private detective's license" Shawn answered without looking up.

"Are you serious?"

"About most things? No, never have been. Don't really see much point in starting now. But this? Yes Gus, I'm serious about this."

"I don't understand, you said you were leaving."

"And I did," Shawn nodded. "Had to give my two weeks notice, pack up my apartment, drive my bike back," Shawn listed with half a shrug.

"And when exactly did you decide you were coming back?"

Shawn grinned, "On the plane back to Vegas."

Gus rolled his eyes, "Of course."

"Okay, we've got a lot of work to do. There's smoothies in the mini fridge and doughnuts on top."

Gus liked the idea of doughnuts. He moved toward the fridge and lifted the lid. He frowned at the contents. "You ate all the cream filled ones; you know those are my favourite!"

"You snooze you lose buddy."

"I was _not _snoozing Shawn! I was buying boxes!"

Shawn grinned, "Feels like old times, right?"

"Oh yeah," Gus agreed, massaging his shoulder. "Little Shawn's returning, as is the overwhelming urge to strangle you."

"Can that wait until this evening? I need to borrow your car later."

Gus sighed, "You know the saying, you don't know what you've got til it's gone?" He asked as he dropped into his chair.

"Yeah."

"I've got a new one for you, you don't know what annoys you until it's back in your face eating the cream filled doughnuts and 'borrowing' your car."

"Come on Gus, you know you love me."

"Like broccoli," Gus retorted.

"Wait, you _hate _broccoli! You used to say there was something unnatural about miniature trees."

Gus smiled, but said nothing. The shock of finding Shawn had worn off and the reality of what was happening had sunk in. Shawn was back and Psych was back in business, though with a proper license this time. He had to admit, no matter how much Shawn annoyed him, he had missed the banter.

Shawn shook his head. He dropped the feather duster and started clearing off his desk. He picked up his precious squeezy frog and frowned at the yellow square stuck to the bottom. He turned the frog over and peeled off the square. He recognised the scrawled handwriting on the post-it.

_I'll expect you for dinner Shawn, seven o'clock, don't be late._

_Bring dessert and Gus._

Shawn grinned, oh yeah, he was home.


End file.
